. 


GIFT  OF 
RICHARD  HICKMAN 


PICTURESQUE    SICILY 


BY 


WILLIAM   AGNEW   PATON 

author  of 
'down  the  islands:  a  voyage  to  the  caribbees"  etc. 


"  Multa  mihi  videntur  esse  de  Sicilian 

dignitate,  vetustate,    militate    dicenda." 

Cicero 

"  Italy  without  Sicily  leaves  no  image 

in  the  soul  —  Sicily  is  the  key  to  all." 

Goethe 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW    YORK    AND    LONDON 
HARPER    &    BROTHERS    PUBLISHERS 

1898 


£Ucs  i  «2*^ 


One  hundred  copies  printed. 
No.  JO 


Copyright,  1897,  by  Harper  &  Brothers. 

All  rights  reservtd. 


TO 

A.  W.  P. 

THE  COMPANION   OF  MY   SICILIAN  JOURNEY 

W.  A.  P. 


PREFACE 


SICILY  is  little  known  to  the  world  of  to-day ;  few 
travellers  visit  the  island ;  of  American  books  on 
modern  Sicily  there  are  none,  of  English  books  there  is 
a  plentiful  lack ;  and,  even  in  these  days  of  magazines 
and  newspapers,  but  little  information  concerning  the 
mysterious  country  finds  its  way  into  the  public 
prints  of  Europe  or  the  United  States.  Neverthe- 
less, Sicily  presents  to  historians  and  archaeologists  a 
field  the  more  tempting  that  it  has  been  so  little  till- 
ed, and  a  new  world  to  travellers  who  delight  in  the 
romantic  and  the  picturesque.  The  discovery  in  all 
parts  of  the  island  of  a  great  number  of  Greek  tem- 
ples, theatres,  and  other  edifices  must  excite  the  inter- 
est of  antiquarians,  while  the  mere  sight  of  these  grand 
ruins  challenges  the  admiration  of  all  beholders.  To 
me  these  relics  of  classic  times  were  revelations  of  a 
forgotten — indeed  an  almost  unknown — era  in  the  his- 
tory of  a  highly  civilized  and  art-loving  people.  With 
great  surprise,  I  learned  that  there  are  more  ruins  of 
Greek  temples  in  the  island  of  Sicily  than  are  to  be 
found  in  the  Peloponnesus,  or  in  all  Greece  besides. 

Not  only  in  examples  of  Greek  architecture,  but 
also  in  the  more  or  less  perfect  architectural  relics  of 


vi  PREFACE 

other  nations  that  at  one  time  or  another  have  held 
dominion  in  the  island,  is  Sicily  surprisingly  rich. 
Nowhere  else  in  Europe  (within  the  limits  of  so 
small  a  territory)  are  there  to  be  seen  so  many  well- 
preserved  specimens  of  the  work  of  the  master  build- 
ers of  ancient  and  mediaeval  times.  It  has  been  well 
said  that  "  Sicily  is  the  Archaeological  Museum  of  Eu- 
rope ";  for  in  Sicily  are  to  be  seen  the  caves  of  the 
cliff-dwellers;  fragments  of  cyclopean  structures 
reared  by  prehistoric  builders ;  foundations  of  walls 
laid  by  Phoenicians  and  Carthaginians ;  temples,  the- 
atres, and  fortresses  of  Greek  construction ;  bridges, 
aqueducts,  and  amphitheatres  erected  by  Roman  en- 
gineers ;  remains  of  edifices  built  by  Byzantine  archi- 
tects ;  mosques  and  towers  of  Saracenic  origin  ;  while 
of  Norman  churches,  castles,  palaces,  who  can  tell  the 
number  or  describe  their  magnificence? 

When  the  Mediterranean  was  the  only  ocean  whose 
expanse  had  been  explored  by  civilized  people,  the 
lands  washed  by  its  waves  composed  the  whole  of 
the  known  world  of  antiquity,  and  Trinacria  was  the 
very  centre  of  ancient  civilization.  The  nations  that 
have  dwelt  around  the  Mediterranean  waged  almost 
incessant  war  for  the  possession  of  the  island,  and 
these  wars  were  of  paramount  importance  to  man- 
kind. For  more  than  fifteen  hundred  years  it  was 
the  battlefield  upon  which  men  of  European  blood 
contended  with  men  of  Asiatic  blood  for  the  domin- 
ion of  the  world.  In  Sicily,  no  less  than  in  old 
Greece,  was  waged  the  war  of  civilization  against 
barbarism,  of  philosophy  against  mysticism,  of  science 
against  astrology ;  and  it  is  no  exaggeration  to  say 
that  upon  the  result  of  battles  fought  in  Sicily,  or  on 


PREFACE  VU 

the  sea  near  her  coast,  oftentimes  have  hung  the  fate 
and  future  history  of  Europe. 

Sicily  has  been  the  battle-ground  not  only  of  race 
against  race  and  nation  against  nation,  but  of  creed 
against  creed.  On  Sicilian  soil  innumerable  battles 
were  fought  between  Shemitic  men  who  bowed  down 
to  Baal,  Ashtoreth,  and  Moloch,  and  Aryans  who  wor- 
shipped Jove  and  all  his  starry  host  —  Phoenicians 
against  Greeks,  Carthaginians  against  Romans.  Then 
came  the  Moslems,  followers  of  Mohammed,  to  fight 
against  Greeks  who  called  themselves  "  the  servants 
of  the  Nazarene  ";  and,  later,  Saracens  warred  against 
Normans. 

In  all  these  wars  Europeans  battled  with  Asiatics,  or 
Africans  of  Asiatic  ancestry ;  the  "  men  of  the  West  " 
against  the  "  men  of  the  East"  ;  and  oftentimes  these 
Sicilian  campaigns,  carried  on  in  and  for  the  possession 
of  Sicily,  determined  the  course  of  history  far  beyond 
the  limits  of  the  island  battle-ground.  As,  for  in- 
stance, on  the  day  commonly  said  to  be  the  Day  of 
Salamis,  when  the  men  of  old  Greece  saved  their 
country  from  the  invading  Persians,  the  Greeks  of 
Sicily  won  the  battle  of  Himera,  and  so  not  only  de- 
livered their  native  land  from  the  yoke  of  the  Cartha- 
ginians, but  turned  back  a  tide  of  conquest  that 
threatened  to  orientalize  Europe. 

In  Sicily  were  fought  many  of  the  battles  of  the 
Punic  Wars.  Pyrrhus  of  Epirus,  and  after  him  Beli- 
sarius,  played  their  short  but  brilliant  parts  on  Sicilian 
soil.  In  Sicily  the  Moslems  temporarily  established 
the  dominion  of  the  Khalifs  of  Africa.  In  Sicily  the 
Normans  won  for  themselves  a  kingdom,  and  estab- 
lished a  government  which,  for  a  time,  was  the  most 


viii  PREFACE 

liberal,  the  most  powerful,  the  richest  and  most  mag- 
nificent of  the  governments  of  Europe. 

The  glory  of  the  Normans  soon  departed,  and  Sici- 
ly became  the  football  of  popes,  emperors,  and  kings. 
Suabians,  Angevins,  Aragonese,  Catalans,  Castilians, 
Savoyards,  Spaniards,  Austrians — all  these,  in  turn, 
holding  dominion  in  the  island — ruled  despotically,  un- 
wisely, unjustly.  At  last — blackest  of  all  the  curses 
that  have  fallen  upon  ill-fated  Sicily — the  Bourbons 
set  up  their  despotism,  which  Gladstone  described  as 
"  the  negation  of  God  erected  into  the  form  of  a  gov- 
ernment," the  government  of  the  three  F's  (as  King 
Ferdinand  called  it),  "  Feste,  Farine,  Furche,"  that  is 
to  say,  government  by  feast-days,  free  distribution  of 
grain,  and  the  gallows  for  all  who  complained  too 
loudly  in  their  misery  and  hopelessness. 

Not  until  i860  did  Garibaldi  break  the  yoke  of 
their  bondage,  and  then,  for  the  first  time  in  many 
centuries,  the  Sicilians  were  free  to  work  out  their 
social  and  political  salvation. 

Thus  for  ages  the  possession  of  Sicily  was  disputed 
by  the  leading  political  powers  of  the  world,  because 
its  central  position  made  it  a  strategic  point  of  first 
importance,  and  its  possessors  held  the  key  to  "  The 
Midland  Ocean." 

Constantly  in  danger  of  foreign  invasion,  Sicily  was 
"armed  to  the  water's  edge,"  and  when  threatened 
from  without,  the  Siceliots  united  for  the  time  being 
to  repulse  the  fleets  and  armies  of  their  would-be  con- 
querors. But  having  defeated  the  common  enemy, 
they  fell  to  fighting  among  themselves,  so  that  the 
island  was  seldom  at  peace  for  long.  Most  disastrous 
of  all  their  civil   conflicts  was  that  into  which  the 


PREFACE  IX 

Siceliots  were  drawn  when  the  scene  of  the  wars  be- 
tween Athens  and  Sparta  was  transferred  from  old  to 
new  Greece,  for  in  Sicily,  not  in  Hellas,  was  waged 
the  decisive  battle  of  the  Peloponnesian  wars.  Un- 
der the  walls  of  Syracuse,  not  in  Attica,  nor  yet  in 
Lacedaemon,  the  momentous  conflict  between  Dorian 
and  Ionian  Greeks,  which  had  lasted  for  centuries, 
was  fought  out  to  the  end.  The  great  harbor  of 
Syracuse  was  the  scene  of  that  tremendous  naval 
combat  so  marvellously  described  by  Thucydides  in 
the  grandest  of  all  the  passages  in  his  prose  epic. 
When  in  415  B.C.,  the  combined  fleets  of  Sparta  and 
her  Siceliot  allies  prevented  the  escape  to  the  open  sea 
of  the  Athenian  fleet  commanded  by  Nicias,  Athens 
paid  the  merited  penalty  for  her  unreflecting  rashness 
in  deserting  the  democratical  principles  of  Pericles. 
The  Athenians  had  chosen  to  follow  Alcibiades,  who 
had  infected  them  with  aristocratical  ideas,  "  land 
hunger,"  and  an  unholy  lust  for  foreign  conquest,  and 
judgment  fell  upon  the  city  which  Pericles  had  en- 
franchised and  raised  to  the  supreme  height  of  her 
power  and  magnificence.  The  foundations  of  the  At- 
tic commonwealth  were  shaken,  the  glory  departed 
from  Athens ;  she  never  recovered  her  former  great- 
ness, and  Sparta,  Thebes,  Macedon,  in  turn,  dominated 
the  Greek  world. 

The  authentic,  as  distinguished  from  the  legendary 
and  fabulous,  history  of  Sicily  opens  with  an  account 
of  the  founding,  by  Ionian  Greeks,  of  Naxos,  at  the, 
foot  of  JEtna.,  in  736  B.C. ;  but  the  dawn  of  Sicilian 
civilization  preceded  the  arrival  of  the  invading  Hel- 
lenes. Nevertheless,  the  Sicilians  owed  their  more 
perfect  enlightenment  to  the  new  masters  of  the  isl- 


X  PREFACE 

and,  the  world-compelling,  civilizing  men  of  Hellas. 
While  the  Greek  colonists — the  Siceliots — cherished 
an  intellectual  connection  with  their  kin  beyond  the 
sea,  they  gave  birth  to  independent  native  tendencies, 
discovered  improved  forms  of  art,  employed  new  meth- 
ods of  thought,  fostered  new  ideas,  and  contributed  more 
than  all  the  other  colonies  of  Hellas  to  the  inestimable 
store  of  Panhellenic  learning.  First  and  greatest  of  all 
Sicilian  poets,  Stesichorus  of  Himera,  the  contempor- 
ary of  Arion,  reviving  popular  interest  in  the  Homeric 
hymns,  charmed  the  Greek  world  with  lyric  song,  de- 
veloped choral  poetry,  adapting  it  for  public  represen- 
tations accompanied  by  the  cither  and  dances.  Iby- 
cus,  born  at  Rhegium,  fired  the  hearts  of  youths  and 
maidens  with  the  passion  and  realism  of  his  love 
songs ;  Aristoxenus  of  Selinus  invented  iambic  verse 
and  wrote  "The  Megarean  Comedies,"  which,  after 
many  representations  in  Syracuse,  won  the  applause 
of  Athenian  audiences.  Sophron  of  Syracuse  por- 
trayed in  his  mimes  the  life  and  character  of  the 
Sicilians,  and  by  the  originality  of  his  compositions 
greatly  influenced  the  poets  of  Athens,  and,  later,  of 
Rome.  The  names  of  many  other  Sicilian  singers 
might  here  be  mentioned,  but  it  must  suffice  to  recall 
the  fact  that  when  in  old  Greece  the  Muses  became 
silent,  as  if  affrighted  by  the  approaching  catastrophe— 
the  subjugation  of  ancient  Hellas  by  the  young  giant, 
Rome — in  new  Greece,  Theocritus,  the  master  of  all 
pastoral  poets,  sang  clearly  and  sweetly  by  the  pleas- 
ant waters  of  the  Anapus,  awakening  strains  that  en- 
tranced the  spirit  of  Virgil,  and  even  after  the  lapse 
of  twenty-two  centuries  found  an  echo  in  the  songs  of 
Robert  Burns. 


PREFACE  XI 

While  the  Siceliots  were  quick  to  recognize  and  re- 
ward the  genius  of  native  singers,  they  welcomed 
poets,  and  especially  dramatists,  from  foreign  lands. 
Cinaethus  of  Chios,  the  countryman  of  Homer,  ren- 
dered the  Homeric  epos  familiar  to  Syracusan  schol- 
ars ;  Arion,  the  Lesbian,  lived  at  ease  at  the  court  of 
Gelon  ;  Epicharmus  of  Cos  made  his  home  at  the  pal- 
ace of  Hieron,  who  also  invited  Pindar,  ^Eschylus,  Si- 
monides,  and  Bacchylides  to  visit  him  in  Syracuse. 
Corax,  "  the  founder  of  Sicilian  oratory,  the  first 
Greek  who  applied  the  principles  of  science  to  the 
art  of  speech,"  *  was  the  cherished  friend  of  this  same 
Hieron,  who  gathered  around  him  the  most  eminent 
sages,  poets,  and  artists  of  his  time.  Under  Corax, 
Tisias  studied  oratory,  and  he  in  turn  instructed  Gor- 
gias  in  the  art  of  public  speaking,  an  art  which  was 
cultivated  at  Acragas,  by  Empedocles,  whom  Aristotle 
called  "  the  founder  of  rhetoric."  Antiochus  of  Syra- 
cuse, Timaeus  of  Tauromenion,  Diodorus  Siculus  of 
Agira,  wrote  histories  that  entitled  them  to  honors 
only  less  distinguished  than  those  paid  to  Herodotus 
and  Thucydides.  In  philosophy,  practical  statesman- 
ship, law,  no  less  than  in  poetry,  oratory,  and  history, 
Sicilian  scholars  won  high  renown.  In  Sicily,  the  plas- 
tic and  tectonic  arts  flourished  from  an  early  age; 
Sicilian  architects  reared  the  superb  temples  of  Acra- 
gas, Selinus,  and  Syracuse,  and  the  magnificence  of 
those  cities  at  least  rivalled,  if  it  did  not  eclipse,  the 
glory  of  all  other  Greek  cities,  with  the  exception  of 
Athens,  and  possibly  of  Corinth.  Greek  literature  was 
enriched  by  the  contributions  of  Siceliot  men  of  let- 

*  Ernst  Curtius.     History  of  Greece. 


Xii  PREFACE 

ters,  and  in  later  days  Roman  poets  and  dramatists 
drew  inspiration  from  the  works  of  Sicilian  masters. 
Virgil — to  mention  him  only — the  greatest  of  all  Latin 
poets,  frankly  admits  his  indebtedness  to  the  Sicilian 
muse : 

"  Prima  Syracosio  dignata  est  ludere  versu, 
Nostra,  nee  erubuit  silvas  habitare,  Thalia." 

All  the  races  and  nations  that  have  dwelt  in  Sicily 
have  left  relics  and  monuments  of  their  occupancy ; 
but  of  all  nations,  two — the  Greeks  and  the  Normans — 
have  most  distinctly  and  most  enduringly  commemo- 
rated their  conquests  of  the  island.  Without  an  inti- 
mate and  correct  knowledge  of  the  history  of  the 
Siceliots,  no  historian  can  hope  to  understand  the 
history  of  Greece  and  Rome,  and  he  who  ignores  the 
chronicles  of  the  Normans  of  Sicily  can  never  com- 
prehend, in  its  full  significance,  the  wonderful  story 
of  the  "  Making  of  Modern  Europe." 

The  Norman  conquest  of  Sicily  has  not  found  its 
historian — a  magnificent  era  awaits  its  Motley,  its 
Prescott,  its  Macaulay.  And  yet  the  day  of  modern 
Italian  literature  dawned  in  Sicily  at  the  court  of  its 
Norman  kings,  who,  discarding  Greek,  Latin,  and 
Arabic,  and  in  time  disusing  the  speech  of  their  ances- 
tors, as  well  as  the  Provencal,  made  "  La  Lingua  Ci- 
ciliana  "  (the  vernacular  of  Sicily)  popular  and  fashion- 
able. Long  before  a  word  of  Tuscan  speech  became 
familiar  to  Sicilian  tongues  and  ears  the  scholars 
who  graced  the  court  of  Frederick  II.  had  established 
their  claim  "  to  be  looked  upon  as  the  founders  of 
that    Italian   language  which   first    assumed    distinct- 


PREFACE  xiii 

ive  shape  "  at  the  Sicilian  court  of  the  grandson  of 
Roger  the  Norman  and  Frederick  Barbarossa.  While 
the  Tuscans  were  still  writing  in  Provencal,  Sicilian 
poets  were  singing  in  the  "vulgari  eloquio,"  as  Dante 
calls  the  speech  of  the  common  people,  and  proclaim- 
ing the  advent  of  a  new  and  glorious  era  of  Italian 
letters.  Long  before  Dante  was  born  in  Florence,  in 
the  year  1265,  the  first  composition  in  "  La  Nuova  Lin- 
gua Italiana  "  was  written,  and  "II  Contrasto  d'Amore," 
attributed  to  Ciullo  d'  Alcamo,  was  imitated  by  a  host 
of  his  disciples,  Enzio,  Manfredi,  Guido  delle  Colonne, 
Pier  delle  Vigne,  among  others,  the  last  named  the 
favorite  minister,  secretary,  and  counsellor  of  the  great 
emperor  Frederick  II. 

These  Sicilian  canzone — lyric  songs — were  the  earli- 
est syllables  of  a  literature  whose  glory  culminated  in 
the  "  Divine  Comedy  "  of  Dante.  It  is  true  the  Sicilian 
dialect  was  superseded  by  the  nobler  Tuscan  speech, 
but  the  fact  remains  that  at  Palermo,  not  at  Florence, 
Italian  literature  had  its  beginning.  Dante  admits  this, 
and  Petrarch  writes,  "  The  Sicilians  were  before  us." 
As  in  the  days  of  Virgil  Roman  poets  had  sought  in- 
struction from  Sicilian  masters,  so  again,  in  the  days 
of  Dante,  Italian  singers  turned  once  more  for  inspir- 
ation to  the  Sicilian  muse. 

Although  in  this  volume  I  have  in  the  main  con- 
fined myself  to  a  description  of  the  picturesque  island 
as  it  is  to-day,  I  have  striven  to  impress  my  readers, 
as  I  myself  was  impressed  at  all  stages  of  our  Sicilian 
journey,  with  the  historical  interest  which  heightens 
the  effect  of  every  Sicilian  landscape  and  adds  a 
charm  to  the  aspect  of  every  city,  town,  and  hamlet  in 
the  island. 


XIV  PREFACE 

"  To  know  Europe,  one  must  know  Italy."  To 
know  Italy,  one  must  be  well  versed  in  Sicilian  his- 
tory, archaeology,  art,  and  literature ;  for,  as  Goethe 
declares,  "  Italy  without  Sicily  leaves  no  image  in  the 
soul ;  Sicily  is  the  key  to  all." 

William  Agnew  Paton. 


CONTENTS 


i 

SICILY   AT   LAST 

From  Naples  to  Palermo— Capri  to  Pellegrino — A  Storm  from 
the  iEneid — The  ^Eolian  Islands — Post  Nabila  Phcebus — 
Snow  Peaks  and  Orange  Groves — "  II  Conco  d'  Oro  " — 
"Palermo  the  Superb"  —  "The  Land  of  Brigands,  Earth- 
quakes, and  Social  Disorders  " Page  i 

II 

THE   CAPITAL   OF   SICILY 

"  Knowest  Thou  the  Land  ?" — "  The  Pearl  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean " — A  Transformed  Palace — A  Picturesque  Wreck 
— "  The  Bells,  Bells,  Bells  " — Street  Cries — The  Wonderful 
Palermo  Carts — A  Picture-gallery  on  Wheels — A  Land  of 
a  "  Strange,  Eventful  History  " 9 

III 

MONTE   PELLEGRINO 

Italian  Cavalry — The  Soldiers  of  Hamilcar  Barca — "  La  Strada 
di  Montagna" — Satyrs  and  Pan-pipes — May-flowers  in  De- 
cember—  An  Ancient  Monastery — The  Shrine  of  Santa 
Rosalia  —  A  Saintly  Daughter  of  Kings  — The  Vision  of 
Girolama — View  from  the  Summit  of  Pellegrino     .     .     19 


XVI  CONTENTS 

IV 

THE   HEART   OF   PALERMO 

"I  Quattro  Canti  "  —  "II  Corso"  —  Via  Macqueda — Ancient 
City  Gates  —  The  Four  Quarters  of  the  City  —  Baroque 
Architecture — Saracenic-Norman   Churches — San  Cataldo 

—  La  Martorana Page  28 

V 
LA   CAPPELLA   PALATINA 

La  Porta  Nuova — The  Royal  Palace — King  Roger's  Chapel 

—  Jewelled   Walls  — La   Stanza  di    Ruggiero  —  Tapestries 
in  Stone 39 

VI 

MONREALE 

King  William  the  Good — The  Cathedral  of  Santa  Maria  Nuova 
— The  Basilica  on  Mount  Royal — The  Benedictine  Clois- 
ters— Treasures  of  Architecture — Norman  Splendor     .    48 

VII 

IL   DUOMO   DI   PALERMO 

Cathedral  of  Santa  Maria  Assunta — "  Walter  of  the  Mill " — 
Tombs  of  Norman  Kings  —  King  Roger  II.  —  Emperor 
Henry  VI. — Constance,  "  The  Last  of  the  d'Hautevilles  " 
— Emperor  Frederick  II.,  "  The  Wonder  of  the  World  ".    59 

VIII 

TWO   HISTORIC  CHURCHES 

San  Giovanni  degli  Eremiti— La  Chiesa  dei  Vespri — Campo  di 
Santo  Spirito — The  War  of  the  Sicilian  Vespers  in  Panto- 
mime—Giovanni di  Procida 67 


CONTENTS  XV11 

IX 

SARACENIC   QUARTERS   OF    PALERMO 

Rione  Castellamare — Rione  Palazzo  Reale  —  The  Slums  of 
Palermo  —  "Rag  Fair"  —  Albergheria  —  A  Victim  of  the 
Triple  Alliance Page  76 

X 

IN    PALERMO 

The  Genius  of  Palermo — La  Piazza  della  Rivoluzione — La 
Chiesa  della  Gangia — Volfango  Goethe — La  Villa  Giulia— 
L'  Orto  Botanico — La  Via  Borgo — Le  Belle  Donne — Inter- 
esting Sights — "  The  Sailors'  Rest  "  —  La  Cala — II  Foro 
Italico 85 

XI 

SUNNY   WINTER   DAYS 

La  Villa  Belmonte — La  Favorita — Mondello — La  Villa  Scalea 
— San  Martino — A  Noble  Charity— Ancient  Trees    .     .     96 

XII 

AT   THE   OPERA 

A  Study  of  Sicilian  Character — The  Rival  Claques — Initiating 
a  New  Opera  Troupe—"  Carmen  " — "  Toreador  Attento  " — 
A  Musical  "Sicilian  Vespers" — Moral    ......     105 

XIII 

A  MOUNTAIN  EXCURSION 

The  Alpine  Club — Boccadi-falco — The  Summit  of  Cuccio — A 
Vision  of  ^Etna — San  Martino— Monreale 115 

XIV 
SOLUNTO 
Winter  Scenes — Blossoms  and  Snowflakes  —  Bagheria  —  An- 
cient Solous — A  Carthaginian  Town — Men  in  Sheepskins 
— A  Shipwreck ,    .     .     125 


xviii  CONTENTS 

XV 

PIANA   DEI    GRECI 

A  Mysterious  Hill  Town— Spectral  Trees— Parco — "La  Scala 
Santa"  —  A  Dreary  Ride  through  a  Lone  Land  —  An  Al- 
banian Colony — Greek  Churches — Picturesque  Costumes — 
Curious  Customs — Weddings  "to  Order "    .    .    .  Page  134 

XVI 

ALONG  THE  NORTH  SHORE 

The  Coast-line — The  Madonian  Mountains — La  Mafia — Ter- 
mini— Himera — The  Sacrifice  of  Hamilcar — "  The  Happy 
Fields  " — Cefalu 143 

XVII 

CEFALU 

An  Ancient  Sicel  Town — Roger  II. — His  Escape  from  Ship- 
wreck— Cefalu  Cathedral — The  Norman  Bishop's  Church 
—  Its  Rich  Adornments  —  "The  Finest  Mosaics  in  the 
World" 151 

XVIII 

RAMBLES   ABOUT   CEFALU 

La  Porta  Garibaldi — La  Via  Liberta — Cloisters  of  Cefalu — A 
Cefalu  "Trattoria" — Along  the  Water-front — Diana  and 
Actaeon — "  II  Trovatore  " 157 

XIX 

THROUGH   FRA   DIAVOLO'S   COUNTRY 

To  Corleone — "Village  of  the  Emirs" — Roccabianca,  "Castle 
of  Diana  " — Baths  of  Gefala — Chiarastillo  Mountains — Fra 
Diavolo,  "The  Prince  of  Brigands"'  —  His  Betrayal  and 
Death 166 


CONTENTS  xix 

XX 

CORLEONE 

Mezzojuso — An  Albanian  Town — Rocca  Busambra — II  Bosco 
di  Ficuzza  —  Corleone  —  A  Sicilian  Locanda  —  "The  King 
of  Mexico  " — "  The  Annals  of  the  Poor"   .    .    .   Page  173 

XXI 

JOURNEY  TO   SEGESTA 

An  Early  Start  —  Starlight  —  Sunrise  —  Birthplace  of  Lais  — 
Cyclops,  Giants,  and  Chimeras  Dire — Acres  of  Wild  Flow- 
ers—  Ancient  Rivers — Saracen  Strongholds — Calatafimi 
— Hosts  of  Beggars 183 

XXII 

SEGESTA 

A  Distant  View  of  a  Doric  Temple  —  The  Valley  of  the 
Gaggera  —  "  The  Rolling  Scamander  "  —  Fording  the  Tor- 
rent—  "A  Wild  and  Lonely  Land"  —  Ancient  Segesta  — 
Its  Glorious  Temple  —  A  Greek  Theatre  —  Wonderful 
Landscapes 190 

XXIII 

SELINUS 

The  Quarrel  of  Selinus  and  Segesta  —  Salemi — Castelvetrano 
—  The  Ruined  Temples  of  Selinus  —  A  Scene  of  Deso- 
lation   199 

XXIV 

A   MYSTERIOUS   EXCURSION 

"Sleepless  Activities"  —  Trapani  at  Dawn  —  An  Uncanny 
Guide  —  Monte  San  Giuliano  —  The  Field  of  Hercu- 
les— "  Gobbo  Brings  us  Luck"  —  "A  Guide-book  in 
Breeches " 209 


XX  CONTENTS 

XXV 

A   CITY   IN   CLOUD-LAND 

Three  Gates  of  Eryx  —  Astarte,  Aphrodite,  Venus,  Madon- 
na— Cyclopean  Masonry  —  "A  Street  in  Bagdad  "  —  The 
Castle  of  Eryx  —  Shrine  of  Venus- Erycina— Return  to 
Earth Page  218 

XXVI 

GIRGENTI 

The  Land  of  the  Greeks  —  Acragas  —  Agrigentum  —  Mons 
Camicus  —  Ruined  Temples  —  "Fairest  of  Mortal  Cities" 
— La  Rupe  Atenea 227 

XXVII 

THE   HEART   OF   SICILY 

Girgenti  to  Caltanisetta — Sulphur  District— Veritable  Infernal 
Regions  —  Kal-at-al-Nisa  ("  Fortress  of  the  Women  ") — A 
Strange  Ride  —  An  Ancient  Albergo — "  Un  Ballo  in  Ma- 
schera  " — "  Sermons  and  ' Gazzoza '" 237 

XXVIII 

"THE   LAND   OF   DEMETER" 

Enna — Castrum  Enna — Castrogiovanni — Worship  of  Ceres — 
Pagan  Rites  —  Christian  Ceremonies  —  Lake  Pergusa  — 
"  Flowers  of  Persephone  " 246 

XXIX 

THE    PLAIN   OF   CATANIA 

"L"  Usurajo" — A  Sicilian  Shylock — The  Rival  Cities— Valley 
of  the  Chrysas — Distant  Hill  Cities—"  Faithless  Sperlinga" 
— Hercules— St.  Philip  of  Agira— .rEtna— Catania  .     .     255 


CONTENTS  XXI 

XXX 

CATANIA 

"  Under  ^Etna  "  —  La  Via  Lincoln  —  "  II  Duomo  "  —  Tomb  of 
Bellini — Elephant  of  Heliodorus  —  Feast  of  Sant'  Agata 
— "The  World  that  is  Never  at  Rest  "    .    .    .    .   Page  262 

XXXI 

.ETNA 

Homer,  Virgil,  Dante — Ascent  to  Nicolosi  —  Monti  Rossi — 
Eruption  of  1886 — "  I  Santarelli  " — Veil  of  Sant'  Agata     272 

XXXII 

S  YRACUS  E 

"  Fields  of  the  Laestrygones  " — Lago  di  Lentini — Leontinoi — 
Augusta — "  The  Town  of  Honey  " — Promontory  of  Thapsus 
— First  Impressions  of  Syracuse 283 

XXXIII 

ORTYGIA 

Fountain  of  Arethusa — Temple  of  Minerva — Temple  of  Diana 
— Castello  Maniace — Great  Harbor — Athenian  Expedition 
— Its  Destruction  by  Gylippus — Death  of  Nicias      .     .     291 

XXXIV 

ACRADINA 

Names  of  Streets  —  "The  City  of  Wild  Pear  Trees" — Santa 
Lucia — The  Apostle  Paul  —  La  Latomia  dei  Cappuccini, 
"  The  Gethsemane  of  a  Nation  " 301 

XXXV 

NEAPOLIS 

New  Syracuse — Roman  Amphitheatre — Grand  Altar  of  Hieron 
— La  Latomia  del  Paradiso — The  Ear  of  Dionysius — The 
Bath  of  Venus — Greek  Theatre — Timoleon     ....     311 


xxii  CONTENTS 

XXXVI 

EPIPOLjE  AND  THE  ANAPO 

Castle  of  Euryalos — Athenian  Siege  of  Syracuse — Capture  of 
the  City  by  Marcellus — Up  the  Anapo — Papyrus — Foun- 
tain of  Cyane — Modern  Naiads Page  320 

XXXVII 

THE   LAND    OF   THE   CYCLOPS 

Portus  Ulyssis  —  Polyphemus  the  Cyclops — "The  Columbus 
of  Sicily"  —  New  Naxos  —  Tauromenion  —  A  Portentous 
Sunset 330 

XXXVIII 

T AOR  M IN  A 

Snow-flakes  and  Almond  Blossoms  —  Mola — Teatro  Greco — 
Isola  Bella — Castello  Alessio — ^Etna— Garibaldi  Modelled 
in  Snow 339 

XXXIX 

FAREWELL   TO    SICILY 

Spellbound  —  Messina  —  Scylla  and  Charybdis — In  the  Grasp 
of  Charybdis  —  Messina  to  Naples  —  The  Rocks  of  the 
Sirens 349 


APPENDIX 

A— La  Mafia 359 

B — Brigandage 370 

C — The  Sicilian  Question 378 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


"IL   FORO    ITALICO."      PALERMO.       MONTE  PELLEGRINO .  Frontispiece 

A  PALERMO   CARRETTA Facing  page     8 

SANCTUARY   OF   SANTA   ROSALIA "  "      l6 

"LA   CALA."      PALERMO.      (THE   OLD   HARBOR).      ..."  "24 

PULPIT.      CAPPELLA   PALATINA,  PALERMO "  "32 

MONREALE    CATHEDRAL.       (INTERIOR) "  "      40 

CLOISTERS.      MONREALE "  "48 

CARVED   CAPITALS.       CLOISTERS  OF   MONREALE.      ..."  "56 

PALERMO    CATHEDRAL  "  "64 

SICILIAN  (SARACEN   TYPE) "  "72 

"STREET   ARABS" "  "      80 

S.  GIOVANNI    DEGLI    EREMITI.      PALERMO "  "88 

A   FORTUNE-TELLER "  "96 

A   SICILIAN  "  MADONNA " "  "    102 

SICILIANA "  "    112 

NORMAN   WINDOW.       PALERMO "  "    120 

SARACENIC-NORMAN    WINDOW.       SYRACUSE "  "    128 

INTERIOR   OF  CEFALU    CATHEDRAL "  "    I36 

AN   ANCIENT   WELL "  "    I44 

SICILIAN   PEASANTS  .       .       .       .   ' "  "    152 

A   MILKMAID "  "    160 

SICILIAN  (ARAB   TYPE) "  "    168 

SICILIAN   (GREEK   TYPE) "  "    I76 

SICILIAN    MOUNTAINEER "  "    184 

NORMAN   AND    SARACEN   TYPES "  "    1 92 

TEMPLE   OF   SEGESTA "  "    2O0 

TEMPLES   OF   MINERVA   AND    APOLLO.      SELINUS        .       .      .  "  "    206 


XXIV 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


SELINUS.  TEMPLE  OF  HERCULES  (ACROPOLIS) 
MONTE  SAN  GIULIANO  (ERYX).  TRAPANI  . 
GIRGENTI.  FROM  TEMPLE  OF  JOVE  .  .  . 
TEMPLE  OF  CONCORDIA.  GIRGENTI  .  .  . 
TEMPLE  OF  CASTOR  AND  POLLUX.  GIRGENTI 
yETNA,  FROM  HARBOR  OF  CATANIA  .  .  . 
"THE   ROCKS   OF  THE   CYCLOPS"    .... 

"A   PASSION   FLOWER" 

FOUNTAIN   OF   ARETHUSA.      SYRACUSE.      .      . 

VENUS  LANDOLINA.      SYRACUSE 

"EAR   OF   DIONYSIUS."     SYRACUSE.       .       .       . 

GREEK   THEATRE.       SYRACUSE      

LATOMIA   DEI   CAPPUCCINI.       SYRACUSE     .      . 

RIVER  ANAPO   (WITH   PAPYRUS) 

VIEW   OF   iETNA,  FROM   SYRACUSE   .... 

GREEK   THEATRE.      TAORMINA 

BADIA   VECCHIA.      TAORMINA 

CASTELLO    S.   ALESSIO 

MESSINA   CATHEDRAL 

CARVED  PORTAL.  MESSINA  CATHEDRAL.  . 
STRAIT  OF  MESSINA  (AT  MESSINA).  .  .  . 
MAP   OF   SICILY     .       .       . 


Facing  page  2l6 
224 
232 
24O 
248 
256 
264 
272 
28o 
288 
296 
304 
312 
320 
328 
336 
344 
352 
360 
368 
376 
385 


PICTURESQUE    SICILY 


PICTURESQUE    SICILY 


SICILY   AT   LAST! 


From  Naples  to  Palermo — Capri  to  Pellegrino — A  Storm  from 
the  ^Eneid — The  ^olian  Islands — Post  Nubila  Phoebus — 
Snow  Peaks  and  Orange  Groves  —  "II  Conco  d'  Oro" — 
"Palermo  the  Superb"  —  "The  Land  of  Brigands,  Earth- 
quakes, and  Social  Disorders." 

December  6. — The  course  of  The  Malta  from  Na- 
ples to  Palermo,  a  distance  of  about  one  hundred  and 
seventy-five  nautical  miles,  lay  south -by-east  across 
that  part  of  the  Mediterranean  known  as  "  Mare  Tir- 
reno  "  —  the  Tyrrhenian  Sea.  All  night  long,  from 
Capri  onward,  the  steamer  battled  with  head -winds 
and  opposing  waves,  and  her  unhappy  passengers  had 
many  reasons  to  remember  that,  through  the  black- 
ness of  the  starless  winter  watches,  they  were  passing 
close  by  the  ^Eolian  Islands — the  ancient  home  of  all 
the  winds.  Little  control  did  King  yEolus  exert  over 
his  subjects  that  December  night.  The  struggling  gales 
and  sounding  tempests,  escaping  from  their  prison- 
house,  danced  aloft  in  air  and  hissed  along  the  sea. 
It  was  a  night  of  trying  experiences  and  long  vigils — 


2  PICTURESQUE  SICILY 

the  hours  lingered  remorselessly,  the  minutes  loitered, 
while  darkness  brooded  over  the  face  of  the  deep. 
Almost  at  the  end  of  human  endurance  day  dawned, 
the  sun  arose,  the  winds  abated,  and,  as  we  ran  in 
under  the  lee  of  Sicily,  the  waves  decreased  in  violence. 
Quick-tempered  and  lightly  stirred  to  wrath  is  the 
Mediterranean,  and  violent  in  its  rage ;  but  its  pas- 
sionate outbreaks — terrible  while  they  last — are  soon 
calmed.  When  the  wicked  tempests  cease  from  troub- 
ling and  the  weary  winds  are  at  rest,  placid  waters 
succeed  angry  seas  as  suddenly  as  the  billows  arose 
when  the  storm  broke  in  its  first  fury.  Order  succeeds 
anarchy — as  Mr.  Dryden  puts  it : 

"  The  waves  unruffle  and  the  sea  subsides." 

After  a  night  of  hideous  blackness  and  shrieking 
storm,  such  as  affrighted  ALneas  and  his  Trojans  ages 
ago,  what  time  they  were  driven  back  from  the  Tus- 
can Sea  to  be  thrown  in  shipwreck  upon  the  Cartha- 
ginian coast,  there  dawned  a  morning  of  sunshine 
and  gentle  land-breezes.  When  we  came  on  deck,  at 
sunrise,  the  sky  was  as  blue  as  the  heavens  that  bend 
over  the  valley  of  the  Hudson  on  an  October  morn- 
ing, save  where  the  scattering  clouds,  white  shining, 
fled  away  towards  "  the  seven  stars,"  to  the  distant 
land  of  winter  and  Alpine  snows. 

Far  ahead  of  us,  in  the  south,  we  descried  a  range 
of  mountains  uplifted  grandly  from  the  sea,  showing 
in  purple  silhouettes  crested  with  roseate  snow.  It 
was  the  coast-line  of  Sicily,  finely  limned  against  an 
opalescent  sky.  In  the  northwest,  upon  our  star- 
board quarter,  thirty  miles  or  more  away,  lay  the 
Island  of  Ustica ;  in  the  east  the  Lipari  (y€£olian)  Isl- 


SICILY   AT   LAST!  3 

ands  floated  athwart  the  level  rays  of  the  rising  sun 
on  an  ocean  of  golden  light.  It  was  a  brilliant,  a  glo- 
rious morning ;  the  air  was  invigorating,  the  atmos- 
phere remarkably  transparent.  We  forgot  our  woes, 
the  deadly  sinkings  and  upheavals  of  the  night,  and 
eagerly  scanning  the  sea  and  shore,  feasted  our  eyes 
upon  the  inspiring  picture.  As  we  drew  nearer  to  the 
coast  mountains  seemed  to  advance  from  out  the 
golden  distance ;  great  headlands  and  promontories 
grew  towards  the  sea ;  shadows  withdrew  into  the 
depths  of  valleys ;  the  brows  of  precipices  and  the 
crests  of  rock-ribbed  mountain-steeps  caught  the  glory 
of  the  morning;  intervening  hills,  becoming  luminous, 
stood  out  in  high  relief  in  front  of  the  "  Sicilian  Ap- 
ennines." Last  of  all,  the  lowlands  and  the  sea-shore 
received  the  day  and  glowed  in  russet -brown  and 
tawny -yellow  of  fallow  fields,  in  green  of  meadows 
girt  with  deeper  green  of  orange-trees  and  silver-gray 
of  olive  groves. 

On  either  hand,  as  we  steamed  into  the  Bay  of  Pa- 
lermo, two  vast  promontories  towered  superbly  from 
the  sea :  to  the  left,  but  miles  away  in  the  southeast, 
Monte  Zaffarano  ;  to  the  right  and  close  aboard,  Monte 
Pellegrino. 

Strangely  familiar  in  aspect — in  contour  and  in 
color — seemed  the  nearer  mountain.  We  could  easily 
fancy  we  were  back  again  at  Capri,  sailing  along  that 
flank  of  it  which  confronts  the  Bay  of  Naples.  Capri 
we  had,  indeed,  beheld  the  evening  before,  glorified 
by  the  setting  sun.  Pellegrino  was  now  before  us, 
resplendent  in  a  mantle  of  morning  light ;  but  so  like 
Capri !  Two  Dromio  mountains  !  So  similar  in  bulk, 
in  height,  in  sky-line,  we  could  readily  imagine  that 


4  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

Mollis  had  driven  us  back  past  "  The  Rocks  of  the 
Sirens" — that  in  the  night-time  we  had  blindly  re- 
crossed  the  Tuscan  Sea,  as  Virgil  calls  it,  and  were 
again  under  the  lee  of  Monte  Solaro,  navigating  the 
Bay  of  Naples,  midway  between  Sorrento  and  Cape 
Miseno. 

The  north  and  east  faces  of  Monte  Pellegrino  over- 
look the  Mediterranean  ;  its  southeastern  precipices 
rise  from  the  margin  of  the  Bay  of  Palermo ;  while 
from  the  base  of  its  southern  crags  the  shore,  describ- 
ing a  crescent  twelve  miles  in  length,  extends  around 
to  Monte  ZafTarano  in  the  east.  From  a  long  curving 
line  of  white  breakers  falling  upon  yellow  sands  the 
land  emerging  from  the  sea  ascends  in  gentle  accliv- 
ity of  meadows  and  rich  plantations  of  orange  and 
lemon  groves  and  gardens  of  rare  luxuriance.  Far- 
ther inland,  upon  softly  undulating  hillocks,  flourish 
thousands  upon  thousands  of  almond  and  olive  trees; 
and  beyond,  vineclad  hills  rise  in  terraces  to  the  base 
of  the  mountains  that  enclose  a  fertile  plain  within  a 
vast  amphitheatre.  This  "  pianura,"  lying  in  the  sun- 
light between  the  mountains  and  the  sea,  is  II  Conco 
d'Oro — "The  Golden  Horn  of  Plenty,"  so  called  by 
poets  in  ancient  times ;  and  in  this  Golden  Shell,  "  Pa- 
lermo the  Superb  "  shines  like  a  pearl  in  an  emerald 
chalice.  Palermo,  "The  White  City,"  surrounded  by 
gardens  where  grow  the  myrtle  and  the  palm,  the  ilex, 
laurel,  pomegranate,  and  fig-tree  ;  where  oranges  hang 
"  like  golden  lamps  in  a  green  night,"  where  the  al- 
mond flourishes  and  the  citron  blooms ;  where  every 
month  blossom  tropical  flowers  that  vie  in  beauty 
with  the  rose,  the  lily,  and  the  jassamine. 

The  red  roofs,  domes,  towers,  minarets  of  the  city 


SICILY   AT   LAST!  5 

stand  up  against  a  rich  background  of  vegetation  ; 
and  beyond,  across  a  band  of  variegated  greenery, 
rise  the  mountains,  with  masses  of  snow  on  their  sum- 
mits, which  still  reflect,  as  do  the  feathery  clouds,  the 
glories  of  early  morning. 

Palermo  looks  seaward,  facing  the  northeast.  In 
front  of  it  are  two  harbors  having  one  and  the  same 
entrance.  "  II  Porto,"  the  modern  basin  (that  to  the 
right  as  vessels  enter  from  the  bay),  is  protected  from 
storms  by  "  II  Braccio  del  Molo"  ,  "  La  Cala,"  the  an- 
cient harbor,  opens  on  the  left,  and  before  it  there 
extends,  forming  an  angle,  the  breakwater  "  Antemu- 
rale."  The  Arm  of  the  Mole  and  the  Ante -mole 
reach  out  from  the  shore  like  the  claws  of  a  crab,  and 
within  their  embrace  the  commercial  navy  of  Palermo 
finds  safe  and  convenient  anchorage. 

Panormus,  "All  Harbor,"  was  the  name  given  to 
the  seaport  by  its  Graeco-Sicilian  colonists.  The  Car- 
thaginians, according  to  some  authorities,  called  it 
Mahhanat,  "  A  Fortified  Camp  "  ;  according  to  others, 
"  Sis,"  or  "  Tsits,"  "  The  Flower."  This  last  title  may 
well  have  been  bestowed  upon  it  in  consideration  of 
the  charm  and  loveliness  of  the  ancient  colony ;  it  is 
a  name  that  may  be  used  advisedly,  to-day,  to  de- 
scribe Palermo,  than  which  "  there  are  few  spots  upon 
the  surface  of  the  globe  more  beautiful."* 

Shortly  before  nine  o'clock  The  Malta,  slowly  round- 
ing the  south  end  of  II  Braccio  del  Molo,  headed 
north,  and  drifting  a  cable's  length  came  to  anchor  in 
II  Porto.  Before  the  steamer  was  made  fast  to  her 
moorings  she  was  surrounded  by  a  flotilla  of  small 

*  T.  Addington  Symonds. 


6  PICTURESQUE  SICILY 

boats  with  prows  or  cut-waters  rising  a  yard  or  more 
above  the  line  of  their  gunwales — after  the  fashion  of 
the  "  ferro  "  of  a  gondola.  In  other  respects  also  the 
"  barche  "  are  quaint  and  curious  in  shape  and  build. 
It  is  not  their  model,  however,  that  calls  for  particular 
mention,  but  the  dazzling  brilliancy  and  bewildering 
variety  of  colors  with  which  they  were  painted  with- 
out and  within.  There  were  scores  of  these  "  bum- 
boats,"  and  as  they  arranged  themselves  in  circles 
around  the  steamer,  the  surface  of  II  Porto  resembled 
a  vast  palette  spread  with  all  the  bright  pigments 
needed  to  paint  a  picture  of  the  gaudiest  of  Dutch 
villages.  In  such  gay  company,  The  Malta,  in  her  cus- 
tomary suit  of  solemn  black,  suggested  comparison 
with  a  crow  in  the  midst  of  a  flock  of  paroquets,  or  a 
gentleman  in  conventional  evening  attire  at  a  fancy- 
dress  ball. 

In  keeping  with  the  brilliant  hues  of  the  smaller 
boats  were  the  colors  of  the  coasting  vessels  and  fish- 
ing-smacks moored  against  The  Mole,  or  returning 
from  and  departing  to  the  sea.  Chioggia,  the  dream 
of  artists  who  are  set  in  ecstasies  by  the  multicolored 
sails  that  decorate  the  lagoons  of  Venice,  was  never 
so  gorgeously  arrayed  as  was  the  water-front  of  the 
White  City  on  the  morning  of  our  arrival  in  Sicilian 
waters. 

All  in  good  time  we  took  passage  in  one  of  the 
wonderful  boats  and  followed  our  baggage  to  the 
Dogana  landing-stage,  where  we  disembarked;  cus- 
tom-house formalities  gave  us  little  trouble  and  but  a 
moment's  pause. 

At  last  we  set  foot  in  Sicily,  "  The  land  of  brigands, 
earthquakes,  and  social  disorders."     So   it  had   been 


SICILY  AT  LAST!  f 

described  to  us  by  our  friends  in  America,  who,  when 
bidding  us  farewell,  charged  us  "not  to  do  anything 
rash  "  ;  by  English  people,  who,  when  we  announced 
our  destination,  summed  up  their  surprise  in  the  ex- 
clamation, "Only  fancy!"  Germans  whom  we  had 
met  at  Naples  and  Capri  advised  us  to  read  Goethe's 
Italienische  Reise  and  to  go  to  Greece  if  it  were 
Greek  ruins  we  were  in  search  of;  and  a  Frenchman, 
who,  in  answer  to  his  inquiries,  learned  of  our  inten- 
tion to  spend  the  winter  in  Sicily — Sicily  of  all  places! 
— shrugged  his  shoulders  and  politely  inquired  :  "  Les 
Am£ricains  wish  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  Fra 
Diavolo?" 

It  was  not  without  certain  misgivings  that  we  landed 
in  the  mysterious  island  which  Rene  Bazin  describes 
as  "un  pays  qui  fut  dangereux,  et  pourrait  l'etre  en- 
core." 

Of  earthquakes  and  social  disorders  we  had  no  ex- 
perience while  we  were  in  Sicily,  and  after  the  first 
day  of  our  stay  in  Palermo  we  took  no  further  thought 
of  such  matters.  As  for  Sicilian  brigands,  we  did  not 
have  to  go  out  of  our  way  to  fall  in  with  the  most 
celebrated  and  redoubted  members  of  that  fraternity, 
nor  did  we  have  long  to  wait.  On  our  way  from  "  II 
Molo"  to  our  hotel  we  crossed  La  Piazza  Ucciardone, 
on  one  side  of  which  stands  the  great  prison  ("  vicaria  ") 
founded  by  Ferdinand  II.  in  1834,  and  constructed  in 
its  latest  additions  on  the  model  of  the  famous  Moya- 
mensing  Penitentiary  in  Philadelphia. 

Issuing  from  the  prison  gates,  there  came  across 
the  piazza  a  prison-van,  guarded  by  two  "  carabinieri " 
and  six  "  bersaglieri."  The  conductor  of  the  omnibus 
in  which  we  were  being  conveyed  to  the  Hotel  des 


8  PICTURESQUE   SICILY 

Palmes,  observant  of  the  particular  notice  we  took  of 
the  passing  vehicle,  informed  us  that  in  it  were  ten 
brigands,  members  of  "  La  Banda  Maurina,"  desper- 
ate villains  all  of  them,  on  their  way  from  La  Prigi- 
one  to  the  Corte  d'  Assiso,  where  they  had  been  on 
trial  for  several  days  for  crimes  and  misdemeanors — 
videlicet :  murders,  abductions,  extortions,  cattle-steal- 
ing, arson,  and  the  like.  We  gazed  with  intense  in- 
terest at  the  van,  inspecting  it  curiously,  as  country- 
boys  examine  the  wagon  alleged  to  contain  the  cage 
of  serpents  belonging  to  a  menagerie  about  to  be  ex- 
hibited in  their  native  village ;  and  we  wondered  if 
all  —  in  very  truth  all  —  the  members  of  La  Banda 
Maurina  were  inside. 

Beyond  doubt,  then,  there  were  brigands  in  Sicily ! 
But  as  those  we  positively  knew  of  were  safe  under 
lock  and  key,  and  guarded  by  eight  riflemen,  we  felt 
reassured  and  continued  our  journey  at  ease  in  body 
and  mind.  Soon  we  dismissed  the  strange  and  star- 
tling incident  from  our  thoughts,  for  Palermo  inter- 
ested us,  charmed  us.  We  found  it  one  of  the  bright- 
est, most  picturesque,  as  well  as  one  of  the  cleanest 
cities  we  had  visited  in  many  a  day  of  travelling ;  and 
all  in  good  time  we  arrived  at  the  Hotel  des  Palmes, 
where  we  chose  apartments  the  windows  of  which 
looked  out  upon  two  of  the  many  beautiful  gardens 
of  Palermo. 


II 

THE  CAPITAL  OF  SICILY 

"Knowest  Thou  the  Land?" — "The  Pearl  of  the  Mediterra- 
nean " — "  A  Transformed  Palace  " — A  Picturesque  Wreck 
— "The  Bells,  Bells,  Bells," — Street  Cries — The  Wonder- 
ful Palermo  Carts — A  Picture-gallery  on  Wheels  —  A 
Land  of  a  "  Strange,  Eventful  History." 

We  had  arrived  in  the  capital  city  of  a  country  to 
which  we  had  been  attracted  as  mysteriously  as  was 
Sindbad  to  the  "  Island  of  Loadstone."  We  had  set 
out  on  our  voyage  to  Sicily  in  simple  faith,  believing 
that,  in  due  time,  we  should  come  to  our  desired 
haven,  Palermo.  We  had  determined  to  adjust  our- 
selves to  new  circumstances  and  strange  surround- 
ings ;  had  made  up  our  minds  "  to  have  a  good  time  " 
in  spite  of  ordinary,  or  even  some  extraordinary,  dis- 
comforts. We  had  but  little  fear  that  we  should  not 
enjoy  travelling  under  any  and  all  conditions,  for  we 
had  been  abroad  in  the  world  and  knew  how,  and 
were  disposed,  to  take  things  as  we  found  them. 
Moreover,  we  cherished  the  hope  that  we  should 
find  pleasure  and  profit  both  in  mind  and  body  by  so- 
journing in  a  country  concerning  which  we  had  re- 
cently held  much  discourse  with  a  certain  venturesome 
friend  who  had  lately  visited  the  wonderland.    To  our 

eager  inquiries  about   Sicily,  its  scenery,  its  history, 
i* 


10  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

and  its  people,  he  had  made  answer — Yankee-like — by 
asking  a  question : 

"  Kennst  du  das  Land  wo  die  Citronen  bliihn, 
Im  dunkeln  Laub  die  Gold-Orangen  gliihn, 
Ein  sanfter  Wind  vom  blauen  Himmel  weht, 
Die  Myrte  still  und  hoch  der  Lorbeer  steht? 
Kennst  du  es  wohl?" 

We  had  to  confess  we  did  not  know  the  land,  had 
not  even  been  aware  that  it  was  Sicily  Goethe  had  in 
mind  when  he  formulated  the  question  in  melodious 
German  verse.  The  words  sank  into  our  hearts,  and 
we  began  dreaming  of  the  day  when — the  Fates  being 
propitious  —  we  should  behold  "The  Pearl  of  the 
Mediterranean  "  in  all  its  loveliness. 

And  now  we  were  actually  in  Sicily !  Unknown 
strangers  in  a  strange  land ;  ignorant — let  us  confess 
it — of  everything  concerning  the  geography  of  the 
island  of  to-day,  of  its  inhabitants,  of  its  modern  his- 
tory, of  the  manners  and  customs  of  its  people,  or  of 
its  politics  and  sociology.  In  the  great  city,  in  all 
the  island,  we  had,  so  far  as  we  could  guess,  never  a 
friend,  no  one  even  whom  we  could  call  an  acquaint- 
ance. The  sights,  the  sounds,  mankind,  the  aspect  of 
places  and  things  were  strange  and  new  to  us,  the 
very  atmosphere,  the  sunlight,  the  summery  Decem- 
ber air  seemed  unnatural ;  and  yet  we  entered  Paler- 
mo joyously,  and,  presenting  ourselves  with  the  free- 
dom of  the  city,  immediately  made  ourselves  at  home 
and  comfortable  in  a  transformed  palace,  taking  pos- 
session of  our  apartment  as  if  we  had  been  the  an- 
cient lords  of  it  coming  to  their  own  again. 

We  had  planned  a  stay  of  two  weeks  in  Palermo. 


THE  CAPITAL   OF  SICILY  II 

We  dwelt  there  in  health  and  happiness  for  three 
months  lacking  a  few  days.  We  did  not  idle  away 
the  time,  although  we  learned  the  significance  of  the 
happy  Italian  phrase,  "  dolce  far  niente";  and  prac- 
tised that  gentle  art  assiduously.  How  the  days  flew ! 
How  the  weeks  grew  into  months,  and  the  months 
transformed  themselves  into  a  quarter  of  a  year,  we 
are  at  a  loss  to  tell.  We  seemed  to  lose  all  count  of 
time,  mislaid  days  recklessly  ;  and,  every  week,  made 
the  discovery  that  Sunday  had  stolen  upon  us  un- 
awares while  we  were  wondering  if  yesterday  was 
Friday. 

Palermo  interested,  charmed  us ;  we  loved  to  study 
it,  to  view  it  in  all  its  aspects ;  to  conjugate  it,  so  to 
speak,  in  all  its  moods  and  tenses.  It  was  ever  chang- 
ing, presenting  each  day  new  attractions  for  our  de- 
lectation. We  delighted  to  wander  up  and  down  in 
it,  to  sit  in  the  sunlight  enjoying  the  quiet  of  its  gar- 
dens, to  be  out  in  the  air,  to  catch  glimpses  up  and 
down  its  streets  of  the  blue  sea  spreading  to  the  east 
of  it,  of  the  purple  mountains  beyond  II  Conco  d'  Oro. 
We  left  our  guide-books  at  home  and  sallied  forth  to 
saunter  hither  and  thither,  enjoying  the  sensation  of 
getting  lost  in  its  maze  of  highways  and  byways,  and 
for  no  other  reason  than  that  we  might  have  the  sport 
of  finding  our  way  back  to  the  Hotel  des  Palmes.  On 
occasion  we  asked  our  way  or  inquired  the  name  of  a 
church  or  palace  of  passers-by,  merely  to  make  an  op- 
portunity for  studying  an  interesting  face  or  pictur- 
esque costume,  and  because  it  gave  us  pleasure  to  be 
courteously  entreated  by  people  who,  in  their  polite- 
ness, seemed  at  least  to  consider  it  a  compliment  to 
be  accosted  by  a  friendly  foreigner. 


12  PICTURESQUE  SICILY 

We  spent  the  first  hour  or  two,  after  our  arrival  at 
our  "  albergo,"  in  the  employment  of "  setting  ourselves 
to  rights,"  varied  by  looking  out  of  the  windows,  one 
of  which,  opening  towards  the  rising  sun,  gave  upon 
the  garden  of  the  hotel,  a  garden  of  palms.  Two 
south  windows  afforded  access  to  balconies,  from 
which  we  could  see  up  and  down  the  Via  Stabile — up 
to  the  I  Quattro  Canti  di  Campagna,  and  the  hills  be- 
yond II  Conco  d'  Oro  ;  down  to  II  Porto,  which  opens 
upon  a  wide  expanse  of  deep-blue  sea.  Across  the 
street  was  another  garden — a  large  square — in  which 
grew  a  bewildering  variety  of  palms,  evergreens,  and 
trees  that  shed  their  leaves  shortly  before  Christmas, 
to  put  them  forth  again  early  in  the  new  year. 
Above  the  red -tiled  roofs  of  the  houses,  far  be- 
yond the  limits  of  the  town,  mountain  peaks  rose 
to  view,  and  hitherwards  numberless  minarets,  tow- 
ers, and  domes  stood  up  in  the  sunlight,  shining 
against  a  background  of  purple,  violet,  and  misty 
blue. 

At  the  foot  of  the  Via  Stabile,  a  hundred  yards  or 
less  from  shore,  a  large  bark,  which,  in  entering  the 
harbor  pilotless,  had  run  upon  a  sunken  reef,  lay  upon 
her  bilge,  her  topmasts  gone  by  the  board,  her  rig- 
ging all  unset.  She  made  a  picturesque  but  pathetic 
object,  in  our  view.  It  was  so  strange  to  see  a  great 
ship  seemingly  lying  in  the  middle  of  a  city  street, 
almost  at  the  doors  of  the  houses !  Every  morning 
during  our  stay  in  Palermo  our  first  glance  from  our 
south  window  was  directed  down  the  street,  to  see  if 
the  derelict  had  slipped  into  deep  water  and  drifted 
away  during  the  night.  But  there  she  stuck  week 
after  week,  and  slowly  the  remorseless  waves  devoured 


THE   CAPITAL  OF  SICILY  1 3 

her  piecemeal,  within  biscuit-toss  of  the  harbor  inner- 
wall. 

It  so  happened  that  we  arrived  in  Palermo  on  a 
fete-day.  The  city  was  decorated,  embellished  with 
countless  flags  and  banners,  and  its  citizens  were  in 
holiday  attire.  It  was  a  "  festa  "  in  honor  of  the  Holy 
Virgin,  the  celebration  of  which  continued  for  three 
days,  and  during  all  that  time  the  populace  made 
merry  in  their  light-hearted,  good-natured  fashion. 
All  the  church  bells  —  and  their  number  is  legion — 
were  ringing  incessantly.  "  Ringing,"  however,  hard- 
ly conveys  an  adequate  idea  of  the  billows,  the  del- 
uges, of  sound  that  rolled,  echoing  and  re-echoing 
through  the  air.  Be  it  noted  that  the  Sicilian  church- 
bells  are  not  rung  like  "  Father  Prout's" — "  swinging 
uproarious";  but  hang  motionless  and  are  struck  with 
hammers  in  the  hands  of  muscular  bell -men.  This 
method  of  manipulating  bells  permits  of  rapid  and 
strong  percussion  ;  the  strokes  follow  each  other  faster 
than  they  can  be  counted.  There  is  no  solemn  ding- 
dong,  ding-dong,  about  the  bells  of  Palermo.  Sharp- 
smitten,  they  clang  away  fortissimo,  staccatissimo. 
One,  two,  three  !  bang,  bang,  bang  !  One,  two,  three, 
four!  bang,  bang,  bang!  —  da  capo  —  over  and  over 
again  ;  the  monotony  of  the  sound  varied  occasionally 
by  a  volley  of  bangs  that  reminds  one  of  the  alarm 
signal  "  All  ashore,"  as  performed  on  a  steamship's 
bell  to  warn  the  friends  of  passengers  that  it  is  time 
for  all  who  are  going  ashore  to  go. 

On  that  day,  of  all  Sicilian  days,  the  27th  of  May, 
i860,  when  the  red-shirted  Immortals — "The  Thou- 
sand of  Garibaldi" — captured  the  city,  the  citizens, 
frantic  with  joy,  rushed  to  the  belfry  to  sound  the 


14  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

tocsin  ;  they  found  that  Maniscalco's  police  spies  had 
removed  the  bell-clappers.  "Nothing  daunted,  they 
beat  the  bells  all  day  with  hammers  and  other  imple- 
ments, and  so  produced  an  indescribable  noise,  which 
had  a  material  influence  on  the  nerves  of  the  terrified 
Neapolitan  troops."* 

Of  the  sonorous  quality  and  remarkable  power  of 
Sicilian  lungs  and  vocal  organs  we  had  abundant 
proof  from  the  moment  of  our  arrival  in  Palermo.  Not 
even  in  Naples  had  our  ears  been  assailed  by  such  a 
cacophony  of  street  cries.  To  the  wild  accompani- 
ment of  the  bells,  the  chorus  of  fruit,  vegetable,  and 
fish -mongers,  sellers  of  nuts,  sea -weed  —  "  frutti  di 
mare" — cakes,  candies,  flowers,  and  other  miscellane- 
ous dealers  in  indescribable  wares,  rose  and  fell  upon 
the  air,  reproducing  babel,  confusion  worse  confound- 
ing, until  our  tympana  seemed  ready  to  crack  under 
the  blows  of  sound.  Our  attention  was  kept  con- 
stantly on  the  qui  vive.  When  we  peeped  from  our 
windows  or  stood  on  our  balcony  looking  boldly  up 
and  down  the  street,  we  were  astounded  by  vociferous 
appeals  directed  presumably  at  us,  to  induce  us  to  buy 
their  wares,  by  a  host  of  hucksters  who  made  the 
most  frantic  demonstrations  in  their  efforts  to  attract 
our  attention. 

If  we  had  found  food  for  astonishment  in  the  brill- 
iant and  variegated  colorings  of  the  flotilla  of  small 
boats  that  surrounded  The  Malta  on  her  arrival  in  the 
harbor,  the  gaudiness — not  to  say  glory — of  the  "  Pa- 
lermo Carts,"  the  marvellous  vehicles  which  serve  the 

*  Countess  E.  Martinengo  Cesaresco.  The  Liberation  of  Italy, 
page  281. 


THE   CAPITAL   OF   SICILY  I  5 

trade  and  traffic  of  the  town  and  in  which  the  better 
class  of  vendors  convey  their  wares  from  door  to  door 
for  the  convenience  of  customers,  awakened  wonder 
and  challenged  our  admiration.  These  "carrette,"  con- 
structed in  a  novel  manner,  consist  of  a  pair  of  yellow 
wheels,  the  hubs  and  spokes  of  which  are  striped  and 
tricked  out  with  bands  and  rings  of  contrasting  colors 
and  yellow  shafts  similarly  decorated.  The  body  of 
the  vehicle,  a  square  box  twice  as  wide  as  it  is  deep, 
is  also  painted  a  fresh  lemon  color  within  and  with- 
out ;  and  it  is  further  embellished  with  bizarre  pictures 
representing  scenes  drawn  from  the  world  of  fact  and 
fancy. 

During  our  stay  in  Palermo  we  spent  much  time  in 
gadding  about  the  streets,  in  our  endeavors  to  study 
the  art  of  the  carretta  painter,  and  solve,  if  possible, 
the  allegories  figured  forth  in  glowing  colors  by  brushes 
manipulated  with  no  little  skill  and  surprising  daring, 
not  to  say  freedom  of  touch.  The  school  of  art  from 
which  the  painters  who  adorn  all  sides  of  these  surpris- 
ing vehicles  seem  to  have  sought  inspiration  is  decid- 
edly pre-Cimabuesque,  reminiscent  of  the  Byzantine. 
Mythology  is  represented  by  tableaux  of  the  Greeks 
encamped  before  Troy,  ^neas  carrying  off  Anchises, 
Dido  on  her  funeral  pile,  ^Eneas  landing  in  Sicily — 
the  latter  a  very  favorite  theme,  as  was  to  be  ex- 
pected. There  are  innumerable  illustrations  of  inci- 
dents in  the  life  of  Ulysses,  of  Achilles,  of  Pyrrhus;  rep- 
resentations of  Olympian  gods  and  demi-gods,  heroes, 
goddesses,  dryads,  nymphs.  There  are  pictures  of 
adventures,  of  combats ;  apparitions  of  pagan  deities 
and  Christian  saints  to  favored  mortals.  Historical 
subjects  there  are  also :  the  meeting  of  Richard  and 


l6  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

Saladin,  the  capture  of  Jerusalem  by  the  Saracens,  the 
landing  of  Roger  in  Sicily,  a  Turkish  camp  surprised 
by  Greeks  (the  last  evidently  an  incident  from  the 
Greek  War  of  Independence),  Turks  massacring  Chris- 
tians, assassination  of  Julius  Caesar,  and  many  other 
illustrations  of  celebrated  murders  and  innumerable 
scenes  from  the  war  of  the  Sicilian  Vespers.  One 
series  of  pictures  especially  interested  us — we  found 
it  repeated  ad  libitum,  and  all  the  carrette  so  deco- 
rated were,  if  not  new,  at  least  of  recent  manufacture. 
We  were  told  that  these  particular  carts  were  replicas 
of  the  Sicilian  carretta  exhibited  at  the  World's  Fair 
in  Chicago.  On  one  side-board  were  two  panels — one 
representing  Columbus  at  the  Court  of  Queen  Isabella, 
the  other  Isabella  giving  Columbus  her  crown  jew- 
els. On  the  other  side-board  were  likewise  two  tab- 
leaux— Columbus  discovering  America  and  Columbus 
crowned  King  of  America. 

The  catalogue  of  this  peripatetic  picture-gallery 
could  be  spun  out  to  greater  length  than  the  Homeric 
register  of  the  Greek  navy — indeed,  to  set  it  in  type 
would  be  to  compile  a  volume  as  large  as  the  official 
catalogues  of  the  paintings  in  the  Pitti  Palace,  at 
least ;  if  indeed  it  did  not  equal  in  bulk  the  catalogues 
of  the  Louvre  or  the  Prado.  There  were  panels  rep- 
resenting scenes,  no  doubt,  of  present  contemporane- 
ous interest:  A  personage  in  Sicilian  costume  (pre- 
sumably a  brigand)  standing  on  a  mountain  peak 
defying  soldiers  by  brandishing  a  blunderbuss;  the 
same  surrounded  by  soldiers  firing  a  volley,  evidently 
in  order  to  induce  the  personage  to  surrender ;  the 
same  looking  through  prison  bars ;  and  the  hanging 
of  the    same   by   a   masked   and   cloaked   hangman. 


THE   CAPITAL   OF   SICILY  1 7 

Other  series  of  four  panels  pictured  the  horrors  of  a 
dissecting-room,  others  dealt  with  the  story  of  Jonah 
and  the  whale,  Daniel  and  his  lions,  Noah  and  the 
ark,  David  and  Goliath,  the  Four  Evangelists  ;  Popes, 
many  ;  saints,  innumerable ;  St.  George  and  his  dragon  ; 
"  San  Giuliano  appealing  to  the  Normans  "  to  encour- 
age them  to  renewed  attacks  upon  the  Saracens. 
There  were  fanciful  portraits  of  beautiful  women  and 
handsome  men  ;  knights  and  ladies ;  enchanters,  fai- 
ries, monsters,  and  angels  ;  devils  and  monks.  Many 
carts  were  adorned  with  scenes  from  Italian  operas, 
and  many  more  with  designs  of  fruits  and  flowers  or 
gaudy  landscapes  —  ^Etna  in  eruption,  for  instance, 
and  storms  at  sea.  In  the  endless  collection  were 
portraits  of  Hannibal,  Scipio  Africanus,  Julius  Cae- 
sar, Dionysius  of  Syracuse,  Charlemagne,  Don  John 
of  Austria,  Barbarossa  the  Pirate,  Richard  the  Lion- 
hearted,  Giovanni  di  Procida,  Napoleon  I.,  Abra- 
ham Lincoln,  Vittorio  Emanuele,  King  Umberto ; 
and,  more  numerous  than  all,  of  Giuseppe  Garibaldi. 
The  marvellous  vehicles,  thus  decorated,  are  drawn  by 
asses  tricked  out  in  all  the  colors  of  sunset,  with  pom- 
pons nodding  on  their  heads  and  from  the  middle  of 
their  backs,  and  all  clothed  in  gaudy  harnesses,  to 
which  are  attached  rosettes,  bows  of  ribbons,  and 
bright  bunches  and  bits  of  tapes  and  cords  of  the 
brightest  hues. 

These  arrangements  in  polychrome  parade  the 
streets,  "coquets  et  colored,"  droll  and  fantastical, 
attractive  to  the  eye,  fascinating  the  mind  —  like  re- 
buses, as  Guy  de  Maupassant  calls  them,  which  out- 
puzzle  thought,  and  of  which  one  is  constantly  seek- 
ing the  solution.     Nevertheless,  the  carrette  are  most 


l8  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

interesting  and  worthy  of  particular  mention  and  de- 
tailed description,  because,  in  some  sort,  they  serve  to 
render  popular  many  facts  and  incidents  culled  from 
the  chronicles,  real  and  mythological,  of  Sicily — the 
land  of  a  "strange,  eventful  history." 


Ill 

MONTE    PELLEGRINO 

Italian  Cavalry — The  Soldiers  of  Hamilcar  Barca — "  La  Strada 
di  Montagna"  —  Satyrs  and  Pan-pipes  —  May-flowers  in 
December — An  Ancient  Monastery — The  Shrine  of  Santa 
Rosalia  —  A  Saintly  Daughter  of  Kings  —  The  Vision  of 
Girolama — View  from  the  Summit  of  Pellegrino. 

When  we  beheld  Monte  Pellegrino,  rising  in  noble 
outlines  from  the  sea  high  into  the  morning  sunlight 
— our  first  glimpse  of  the  Sicilian  shore — we  deter- 
mined to  make  the  ascent  to  its  summit,  thence  to 
study  the  topography  of  Palermo,  II  Conco  d'  Oro, 
and  the  surrounding  mountains.  Accordingly,  the 
day  after  our  arrival,  the  weather  being  fine,  the  air 
fresh  and  invigorating — the  very  morning  for  a  moun- 
tain expedition — we  passed  out  of  the  north  gate  of 
the  city,  Porta  San  Giorgio,  and,  taking  the  Via  del 
Monte  Pellegrino,  came  to  "  la  falda  di  montagna  " — 
that  is  to  say,  to  "  the  skirts  of  the  mountain."  Pur- 
suing our  journey,  we  crossed  a  plain,  on  which  a 
company  of  Italian  cavalry  was  going  through  its  ev- 
olutions. We  halted  for  a  few  moments  to  watch  the 
movements  of  the  troop,  and  we  remember  trying  to 
imagine  the  havoc  that  small  body  of  men,  armed 
with  carbines  and  other  modern  tools  of  war,  would 
have  played  with  the  soldiers  of  Hamilcar  Barca,  who 


20  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

pitched  their  tents  on  that  same  plain,  at  the  foot  of 
Ercta  (the  ancient  name  of  Monte  Pellegrino),  two 
thousand  one  hundred  and  forty-one  years  ago. 

At  the  foot  of  Monte  Pellegrino  we  found  awaiting 
us  an  "asinajo,"  with  two  well-kept,  well-fed  beasts 
of  the  patient  tribe  which,  as  the  Sicilian  proverb  runs, 
"  Porta  il  vino  e  bee  l*  acqua."  *  They  were  sturdy, 
laborious  creatures,  and,  if  not  willing  travellers,  nev- 
ertheless went  their  gait  perseveringly,  doubtless  mind- 
ful of  that  other  proverb,  "  Asino  duro,  baston  duro."f 
We  lost  no  time  in  mounting  our  steeds,  which  gra- 
ciously permitted  us  to  do  so  without  protest.  In- 
deed, so  meekly,  and  withal  so  stolidly,  did  they  submit 
to  the  manceuvre  that  we  conceived  a  violent  suspicion 
we  were  being  beguiled  into  delusions  of  security  from 
which  we  were  certain  to  be  aroused,  sooner  or  later, 
when,  at  a  more  convenient  season,  our  "  asini  "  took 
it  into  their  heads  to  masquerade  for  one  wild  mo- 
ment in  lions'  skins.  Our  asinajo  informing  us  that 
the  asini  were  "  giovani"  and  "  multi  forti,"  cast  loose 
their  tethers,  dealt  each  of  them  a  preliminary  whack 
with  his  cudgel,  as  he  gave  voice  to  a  shrill,  guttural 
cry,  "  Ah-ee !"  "  Avanti !"  and  our  cavalcade  began  the 
ascent  of  La  Strada  di  Montagna,  a  broad,  substan- 
tially built  viaduct,  with  arches  and  piers;  a  miracle  of 
boldness  for  seventeenth-century  engineers.  It  zigzags 
up  the  mountain,  crossing  and  recrossing  a  precipitous 
ravine,  down  which  in  winter-time  pour  great  torrents 
of  water.  Fifteen  or  twenty  times  La  Strada  leaps 
from  side  to  side,  until  one  does,  indeed,  marvel  how 


*  Carries  wine  and  drinks  water, 
f  Stubborn  ass,  hard  stick. 


MONTE    PELLEGRINO  21 

the  engineers  found  their  way  up  the  precipices,  and 
where  the  builders  stood  while  laying  the  founda- 
tions. 

Shortly  after  starting  we  overtook  a  flock  of  over  a 
thousand  goats — there  may  have  been  more,  certainly 
there  were  not  fewer.  Surely  we  never  saw  so  many  of 
the  tribe  before — all  kinds,  all  colors,  all  ages  and  con- 
ditions of  goats.  Behind  them  followed,  constantly 
shouting  the  strange  cry  "  Ah-ee !"  a  number  tof  goat- 
herds, brown  and  sun -burned,  ragged  and  unkempt, 
some  clothed  in  sheepskin  trousers  and  coats,  others 
bare -legged  save  for  knee-breeches,  and  all  of  them 
wearing  upper  garments  of  goatskin.  Queer,  unnat- 
ural-looking beings — satyr- like!  We  could  almost 
fancy  that  one  old  fellow  with  squalid  beard  and  a 
most  un-Sicilian-looking  paunch,  was  Silenus  himself. 
We  were  ready  to  believe  that  all  of  the  uncanny 
company,  had  Pan  himself  been  there  to  pipe,  would 
have  gone  dancing  and  whirling  away  over  the  rocks 
amid  the  vines  and  ferns,  after  the  manner  of  their 
kind  before  Christian  saints  drove  away  the  Pagan 
gods  from  Panormus  and  sent  the  mountain  and 
woodland  deities  a-packing. 

And  why  not  fancy  that — or  anything? 

We  were  among  wild  scenery  of  rocks  and  tower- 
ing crags,  flitting  fearsomely  over  shadow -grasping 
gulfs  and  yawning  chasms,  alone  in  a  savage  world, 
and  there  around  us  were  all  the  accessories  needed 
to  set  the  mind  romancing,  turning  courage  and  light- 
ness of  heart  to  softness  and  superstition.  Why  not 
fancy  the  return  of  Pan  ?  Indeed,  more  improbable 
day-dreams  might  well  be  conjured  up  by  imagina- 
tions susceptible  to  the  influence  of  time  and  place ; 


22  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

for  by  the  roadside,  in  December,  within  a  week  or  two 
of  Christmas,  we  beheld  daisies,  marigolds,  and  sweet 
alyssum,  wild  thyme,  flowering-mint  and  dandelions, 
pink-tipped  asters,  budding  trefolia,  sorrel,  and  last, 
but  not  least,  purple  violets,  peeping  shyly  at  us ;  fam- 
iliar eyes  that  glanced  and  gleamed  pleasantly  in  the 
mellow  sunlight.  The  view  of  them  gladdened  sight 
wearied  by  the  savage  aspect  of  sullen  crags  and  in- 
hospitable peaks  of  the  overhanging  mountain.  And 
all  these  flowers  were  blooming  in  loveliness  within  a 
fortnight  of  Christmas  !  December  in  the  gay  motley 
of  May  !  The  world  was  growing  young  again !  Why 
not  satyrs  and  Pan-pipes  ? 

Having  passed  the  last  arches  that  bore  the  road 
back  and  forth,  across  and  up  the  ravine,  we  followed 
a  paved  highway  from  the  north  around  to  the  west 
front  of  the  mountain,  and  came  to  a  halt  at  the  foot 
of  a  broad  flight  of  steps  cut  in  the  rock.  We  left  our 
asses  untethered,  not  doubting  that  we  should  find 
them  again,  and,  ascending  fifty  steps  or  more,  stood 
before  the  great  door  of  an  ancient  monastery. 

We  had  left  the  bright  and  bustling  city  behind  us 
scarce  an  hour  ago,  and  here  we  were,  seemingly  as  re- 
mote from  life  and  its  affairs  as  if  we  had  crossed  a 
desert,  or  had  climbed  some  vast  St.  Bernard,  and 
stood  before  the  gates  of  an  ancient  brotherhood, 
"  The  world  forgetting,  by  the  world  forgot."  Sud- 
denly there  came  from  within  the  gloomy  walls  the 
muffled  fluting  of  an  organ  and  the  harmony  of  sweet 
voices  singing.  It  was  the  monks  within  at  prayers; 
unseen  choristers  were  chanting  an  old  Gregorian 
hymn  dear  to  the  ear,  touching  the  heart,  one  that 
lingers  sweetly  in  the  memory.     Within  were  peace 


MONTE    PELLEGRINO  23 

and  quietness ;  only  the  outer  world  seemed  dreary 
and  desolate. 

Presently,  in  answer  to  our  knocking,  a  postern 
door  was  opened  by  an  old  monk,  at  whose  invitation 
we  entered  a  vestibule,  at  one  end  of  which  was  a  sac- 
risty, at  the  other  a  mural  shrine,  before  which  flick- 
ered three  or  four  nearly  burned -out  candles.  The 
ceiling  was  supported  by  twisted  monoliths  of  red 
marble,  surmounted  by  carved  capitals  of  florid  de- 
sign. Strange  it  was  to  stand  in  the  shadow  of  this 
entrance-hall,  looking  beyond  the  pillars  to  find  the 
sunshine  falling  into  a  court -yard  that  served  as  a 
nave,  the  vault  of  which  was  heaven,  its  walls,  that 
on  the  right  unhewn  cliffs,  that  on  the  left  a  continu- 
ation of  the  masonry  of  the  vestibule.  At  one  side  of 
this  square,  open  space  was  a  baptismal  font,  a  natu- 
ral well ;  and  beyond,  across  the  court,  there  opened  a 
large  cavern  into  the  mountain-side,  in  the  interior  of 
which  many  candles  twinkled  on  a  high  altar,  where  a 
priest  was  saying  mass.  The  silence  of  the  place  was 
broken  only  by  the  murmur  of  prayer,  the  welling  of 
the  organ,  and  the  song  of  the  choristers.  We  could 
guess  at,  rather  than  see,  the  figures  of  the  monks  in 
their  stalls  on  each  side  of  the  grotto. 

Crossing  the  roofless  nave  we  entered  the  chancel, 
a  mysterious  cave,  with  stalactites  hanging  from  its 
ceiling,  beneath  which  was  suspended  an  odd  and 
complicated  system  of  lead  gutters  to  catch  the  wa- 
ter that  otherwise  would  drip  on  priests  and  worship- 
pers. Our  ghostly  cicerone  pointed  to  a  seat  where 
we  placed  ourselves  behind  the  robed  and  cowled 
monks  at  the  side  of  the  gospel-desk.  The  front  part 
of  the  cavern  was  lighted  by  the  sun  ;  the  inner  re- 


24  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

cesses  were  in  darkness,  save  where  the  light  from  the 
candles  on  the  altar  faintly  illumined  the  walls  and 
roof  of  the  mysterious  sanctuary. 

When  mass  was  over,  and  the  echoes  of  the  last 
Amen  had  died  away,  when  the  holy  fathers  had  one 
by  one  stolen  softly  from  the  cavern,  returning  to  the 
cells  in  their  dormitory,  our  guide  lighted  a  taper  and 
bid  us  look  within  a  glass-case  enclosing  a  shrine  under 
an  altar  that  stood  to  the  left  of  the  chancel.  Kneel- 
ing where  Goethe  had  knelt,  to  pry,  like  him,  into  the 
mysteries  of  the  tomb,  we  were  willing  to  believe  that 
we  beheld  what  he  more  than  a  century  ago  thus  de- 
scribed : 

"  By  the  steady  light  of  a  small  lamp  I  beheld  the  form  of 
a  beautiful  woman.  She  lay  as  one  in  an  ecstasy,  her  eyes  half 
closed,  her  head  softly  resting  on  her  right  hand,  on  which 
were  many  rings.  I  could  not  with  a  certainty  distinguish  her 
features,  nevertheless  they  seemed  to  me  still  to  possess  a 
wondrous  charm.  Her  garments  were  of  tinsel  gilt,  which  had 
the  appearance  of  rich  and  delicate  cloth  of  gold.  The  head 
and  hands  were  of  white  marble,  sculptured,  if  not  in  the  high- 
est style  of  art,  nevertheless  so  naturally  and  beautifully  wrought 
that  one  must  believe  the  figure  breathed  and  moved.  A  lit- 
tle angel  stands  by  her  as  if  to  fan  her  with  a  lily,  fair  and  white." 

All  this  we  tried  to  see — like  Goethe,  giving  our- 
selves over  to  the  passing  illusion  of  the  place  and 
its  inspirations ;  but  our  imagination  fluttered  feebly 
where  his  had  fearlessly  soared,  and  we  turned  away 
in  disgust  from  the  tawdry,  grewsome  simulacrum  of 
the  saint,  and  tried  to  forget  even  what  we  had  seen, 
or  tried  to  make  believe  we  saw.*     As  one  seeks  to 

*  "  When  Professor  Buckland,  the  eminent  osteologist  and  geologist, 
discovered  that  the  relics  of  Rosalia,  at  Palermo,  which  had  for  ages  cured 


MONTE    PELLEGRINO  25 

take  away  a  bad  taste  from  the  mouth  by  substituting 
a  more  agreeable  flavor,  so  we,  endeavoring  to  blot 
out  the  offensive  spectacle — a  burlesque  of  the  vic- 
tory over  death — turned  our  eyes  to  the  light  and 
the  sweet  realities  of  life.  We  welcomed  the  sight  of 
some  dainty  maidenhair  ferns,  growing  in  the  sunlight 
around  the  coping  of  the  well  in  the  open  court — the 
nave — of  the  church.  An  old  well  truly,  and  pictur- 
esque, which  serves  as  baptismal  font,  holy-water  ewer, 
and  drinking -fountain,  where  babies  are  christened, 
where  monks  and  pilgrims  devoutly  cross  themselves 
and  drink  to  be  cured  of  evil  diseases. 

From  the  chapel  of  Santa  Rosalia  to  the  top  of 
Monte  Pellegrino  is  an  interesting  climb,  easily  ac- 
complished by  a  good  walker  in  twenty  minutes. 
The  view  from  the  summit  is  vast  in  its  extent,  varied 
in  its  features ;  a  landscape  of  sea  and  shore,  of  isl- 
ands and  mainland,  of  wide  ocean  and  sheltered  bays. 
In  the  east,  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach,  Cape  Orlando 
rises  from  the  Mediterranean,  and  hitherward  extends 
the  range  of  mountains,  the  Sicilian  Apennines,  which 
skirt  the  northern  coast  of  Sicily.  Many  of  the  peaks 
soar  to  heights  varying  between  five  and  six  thousand 
feet,  to  culminate  in  Pizzo  dell'  Antenna,  which  uplifts 
its  crest  six  thousand  four  hundred  and  eighty  feet 
above  the  sea.  Cape  Orlando  runs  far  out  into  the 
sea,  pointing  north  to  Vulcano,  nearest  of  all  the  ^Eo- 
lian  Islands  to  the  Sicilian  main.  Four  more  of  the 
group  appear  to  the  northwest  of  Vulcano,  but  Strom- 


diseases  and  warded  off  epidemics,  were  the  bones  of  a  goat,  this  fact 
caused  not  the  slightest  diminution  of  their  miraculous  power." — 
Andrew  D.  White.     A  History  of  Warfare  of  Science  with  Theology. 


26  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

boli,  like  ^tna  in  the  far  east,  hides  itself  in  mists. 
To  the  north  we  behold  distant  Ustica,  and  midway 
between  it  and  the  foot  of  Pellegrino  we  discover  a 
wee  black  speck,  from  which  a  plume  of  smoke  extends 
along  the  west  wind.  Like  a  tiny  "  umbrella-ant,"  the 
packet  from  Palermo  bound  to  the  island  of  Ustica 
crawls  almost  imperceptibly  across  boundless  space 
two  hours  out,  with  two  hours  more  to  crawl  before  it 
enters  its  desired  haven.  Even  while  we  are  looking 
at  it,  it  disappears,  distance  absorbs  it  as  the  sea  drinks 
a  raindrop.  From  the  foot  of  Pellegrino,  extending 
around  the  margin  of  the  Bay  of  Palermo,  a  line  of 
surf  shows  like  a  string  of  white  beads,  and  broad  sand- 
beaches,  dwindled  to  mere  threads  of  gold,  embroider 
the  green  mantle  of  II  Conco  d'  Oro.  With  peculiar 
distinctness  sounds  and  echoes  rise  through  the  calm 
air,  shrill,  plaintive,  pathetic,  the  cries  of  children,  theirs 
alone  distinct ;  all  other  voices  hushed,  the  droning 
of  the  city,  the  whisper  of  the  waves  breaking  on  the 
sands;  the  soughing  of  the  wind  in  the  tree-tops,  as 
soft,_as  solemn,  as  impressive  as  the  hollow  murmurs 
of  the  oracles  of  the  ancient  gods.  Herdsmen  leading 
their  flocks  on  distant  hill-sides  utter  strange,  croaking 
sounds — "  Ah-ee!" — and  ravens  flitting  about  the  spires 
and  steeples  of  Pellegrino  mimic  the  cries  with  impish 
cleverness.  The  flocks  we  had  passed  that  morning, 
on  our  way  up  the  mountain,  now  scattered  over  the 
foot-hills,  creep  everywhere,  like  white  ants  swarming 
on  their  hills  of  pine-needles  and  withered  leaves,  and 
the  bleating  of  lambs  sounds  like  the  shrilling  of 
crickets  and  katydids.  Wonderfully  near  seems  the 
barking  of  a  dog,  and  yet  the  house  he  watches  is  but 
a  dot  of  white  in  the  wilderness  of  greenery.    Mysteri- 


MONTE    PELLEGRINO  27 

ously  far  away  seems  the  world ;  men  we  see  none, 
only  their  dwellings;  but  always  there  come  up  to  us 
the  cries  of  living  things  and  the  voices  of  Nature, 
like  invocations  rising  through  the  serene  ether  to 
Olympus. 

Palermo  well  deserves  her  name,  "  La  Bianca  " — 
The  White  City ;  for  the  stone  of  which  her  palaces 
and  dwellings  are  constructed  is  of  a  very  light-cream 
color,  white  shining  in  the  brilliant  sunlight ;  so  that 
from  Pellegrino  one  beholds  a  city  of  marble.  Imag- 
ine, if  you  can,  the  beauty  of  such  a  city  seated  be- 
tween the  sea  and  II  Conco  d'  Oro,  a  vast  park  inter- 
spersed with  groves  of  ilex,  orange  and  almond  trees, 
and  gardens  of  stately  palms.  Truly  no  more  magnif- 
icent prospect  is  to  be  beheld  in  all  the  world. 


IV 

THE   HEART  OF  PALERMO 

"I  Quattro  Canti  " — "II  Corso  " — Via  Macqueda —Ancient 
City  Gates — The  Four  Quarters  of  the  City — Baroque 
Architecture — Saracenic-Norman  Churches — San  Cataldo 
— La  Martorana. 

THE  summit  of  Monte  Pellegrino  affords  a  bird's- 
eye  view  of  Palermo,  II  Conco  d'  Oro,  the  sea-shore, 
and  the  surrounding  mountains. 

To  know  Palermo  well,  however — to  enable  one  to 
study  understandingly  the  extent,  contour,  and  con- 
figuration of  the  city  in  detail,  one  must  begin  one's 
explorations  by  taking  as  a  place  of  departure  La 
Piazza  Vigliena  —  difficult  to  find  if  one  looks  for  it 
on  any  of  the  modern  plans  of  the  city,  or  inquires 
his  way  to  it,  calling  it  by  that  name  ;  for  the  piazza 
is  generally  known — indeed  is  always  spoken  of  by 
Palermitans — as  "  I  Quattro  Canti."  The  "  Place  of  the 
Four  Corners  "  is  formed  by  the  intersection  of  Corso 
Vittorio  Emanuele  and  Via  Macqueda,  commonly 
called  "  II  Corso  "  and  "  La  Via,"  the  principal  thor- 
oughfares of  Palermo,  the  main  arteries  of  travel, 
which  are  crowded  all  day  long  and  far  into  the 
night  by  an  interminable  procession  of  vehicles  and 
thronged  by  hosts  of  foot-passengers. 

Standing  in  I  Quattro  Canti,  facing  northwest,  look- 


THE   HEART   OF   PALERMO  20, 

ing  up  Via  Macqueda  past  the  site  of  the  old  porta  of 
the  same  name  (the  gateway  itself  was  removed  years 
ago  to  permit  of  the  widening  of  the  street),  the 
vista  through  the  new  town  is  closed  by  Monte  Gallo, 
rising  at  a  distance  of  eight  miles  or  more  at  the  end 
of  the  valley  of  La  Favorita.  Facing  about  and  look- 
ing through  the  old  town  down  the  Via  Macqueda 
out  beyond  Porta  San  Antonio,  Monte  Grifone,  five 
miles  distant,  marks  the  limit  of  La  Pianura  di  Ma- 
donna della  Grazia.  To  the  northeast,  down  II  Cor- 
so,  more  than  half  a  mile  away,  Porta  Felice  spans  the 
street,  and  through  its  arch  a  glimpse  is  to  be  had 
of  the  Mediterranean.  Sunlight  transfigures  the  gate- 
way of  pearly  gray  stone,  and  it  glows  a  golden  yel- 
low ;  the  peep  of  blue  water  framed  by  the  arch 
sparkles  like  a  sapphire  in  an  antique  setting  of  beat- 
en gold.  Turning  again  and  looking  up  II  Corso  to 
the  southwest,  Porta  Nuova  shows  in  quaint  design  ; 
also  the  golden  frame  of  a  picture,  not  of  the  sea  this 
time,  but  of  amethystine  hills  which  rise  beyond  II 
Conco  d'  Oro,  the  castle-crowned  hills  of  Monreale. 

I  Quattro  Canti  is  the  "  Heart  of  Palermo."  Near  it 
are  the  University,  the  public  libraries,  many  churches, 
the  courts  of  justice,  numerous  clubs  and  palaces,  and 
the  principal  shops  of  the  town.  It  is  the  most  inter- 
esting point  from  which  to  observe  the  life  of  the  city. 
Two  streams  of  travel  meet  here,  two  brimming  rivers 
of  humanity.  The  current  which  ebbs  and  flows  along 
the  Via  Macqueda  is  composed,  especially  in  the  after- 
noon, of  the  fashionable  element  of  Palermo  society, 
the  people  who  keep  carriages  or  hire  "  carrozze,"  pat- 
ronize the  grandest  shops,  visit  the  clubs  and  libraries, 
attend  the  courts  or  the  University.     II  Corso  is  more 


30  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

commercial  in  its  aspects,  noticeable  for  the  array 
of  carts  and  drays,  all  wonderfully  painted;  for  the 
smaller  number  of  leisurely  strollers,  and  particularly 
for  the  greater  crowd  of  itinerant  peddlers  who  fill 
the  air  with  their  cries.  On  La  Via  Macqueda  one 
buys  violets  and  confectionery ;  on  II  Corso  one  bar- 
gains for  fruit,  or,  if  one  is  in  search  of  them,  cauli- 
flowers, or  even  "  finnochi "  and  garlic.  If  one  is  in 
quest  of  articles  of  luxury  one  looks  for  them  on  La 
Via  ;  if  household  articles  are  required  they  are  to  be 
found  on  II  Corso,  and  it  is  to  II  Corso  one  must  re- 
sort if  one  desires  to  satisfy  a  craving  for  those  neces- 
saries of  life,  books. 

The  Place  of  the  Four  Corners  has  the  form  of  an 
octagon,  and  the  four  facades  at  the  angles  of  the 
street  are  highly  decorated  in  the  baroque  style  with 
columns  and  statues.  Not  in  Italy,  but  in  Spain,  can 
one  see  the  like ;  in  Seville,  not  in  Florence,  can  one 
find  similar  schemes  of  ornamentation;  and  the  crowd 
of  passers-by  who  have  known  I  Quattro  Canti  all 
their  lives  are,  if  not  Sicilians,  Spaniards — most  unmis- 
takably not  Italian.  And  what  wonder?  Sicily  was 
under  Spanish  influence  for  many  generations ;  it  has 
only  been  a  part  of  Italy — if  it  can  be  called  an  inte- 
gral part  to-day — for  one  generation.  There  are  stat- 
ues, no  doubt,  of  Victor  Emanuel,  first  king  of  Italy, 
in  Palermo;  and  Palermitans,  loving  his  memory,  have 
called  a  grand  street  by  his  name ;  but  they  have  not 
forgotten  the  days  of  Spanish  rule  ;  indeed,  it  is  great- 
ly to  be  feared  that  they  have  only  ceased  to  remem- 
ber how  badly  they  were  governed  by  Spanish  vice- 
roys— among  others,  by  Macqueda,  who  in  1600  de- 
creed I  Quattro  Canti  and  La  Via  known  by  his  name. 


THE   HEART   OF   PALERMO  3 1 

The  southern  facade,  with  its  back  to  the  Rione 
(Section)  Palazzo  Reale,  is  embellished  with  the  statues 
of  Spring,  Charles  V.,  and  Santa  Christina ;  that  fac- 
ing it,  on  the  north  side,  and  belonging  to  the  Rione 
Castellamare,  is  adorned  with  effigies  of  Autumn, 
Philip  III.,  and  Santa  Oliva;  that  to  the  east,  Rione 
di  Tribunali,  with  Winter,  Philip  IV.,  and  Santa  Ag- 
atha ;  that  to  the  west,  Rione  di  Monte-di-Pieta,  with 
Summer,  Philip  II.,  and  Santa  Ninfa.  The  effigies  of 
kings  are  not  always  appropriately  to  be  placed  near 
the  statues  of  modest  saints,  and  one  cannot  refrain 
from  thinking  that  Santa  Christina  and  her  three  com- 
panions might  well  be  found  in  more  congenial  socie- 
ty. But  there  is  an  appropriateness — a  world  of  sug- 
gestion —  in  the  juxtaposition  of  the  effigies  of  the 
four  Spanish  kings  and  the  statues  of  the  four  seasons. 
In  the  time  of  Charles  V. — without  doing  great  in- 
justice to  the  memory  of  his  ancestors — Spain  may 
be  said  to  have  been  in  the  spring-time  of  her  glory. 
Philip  II.  filled  with  his  long  reign  the  summer  of  her 
magnificence.  Philip  III.  saw  her  splendor  fade  to 
the  sear  and  yellow  leaf,  and  Philip  IV.  (rescued  from 
oblivion  by  the  brush  of  Velasquez)  brought  decrepit 
old  Spain  to  the  beginning  of  the  winter  of  her  dis- 
content. 

The  edifice  which  supports  the  facade  on  which  is  the 
statue  of  Santa  Christina — by  whose  name  the  Rione 
Palazzo  Reale  is  also  known  to  churchmen — is  La 
Chiesa  di  San  Giuseppe  di  Teatini,  a  colossal  structure 
in  most  extravagant  baroque,  begun  in  161 2  and  inau- 
gurated in  1645  by  the  viceroy,  Marquis  de  Los  Valez. 

How  any  architect,  having  as  models  from  which 
to  draw  inspiration   for  his  art  the  superb  Norman 


32  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

cathedral  of  Monreale  and  the  Palatine  Chapel  (which 
we  had  not  yet  seen,  but  were  to  behold  and  marvel 
at),  could  be  guilty  of  the  designs  for  this  church  of 
St.  Joseph,  it  is  hard  to  comprehend.  The  same  may 
be  said  of  all  the  churches  of  Palermo  built  in  the 
seventeenth  century.  In  all  of  them  "  the  Jesuits'  love 
of  show  and  finery  is  exhibited  in  its  greatest  extrav- 
agance, not  from  design  or  plan,  but  by  accident,  as 
artist  after  artist,  sculptor,  carver,  gilder,  painter,  or 
worker  in  marble  chose  to  labor,  without  taste  or  rule, 
merely  to  display  his  own  abilities."*  The  exteriors 
of  these  baroque  churches  are  invariably  offensive  to 
one's  sense  of  the  fitness  of  things  architectural ;  they 
remind  one  somehow  of  elephants  and  hippopotami, 
clumsy,  uncouth,  heavy,  and  ungraceful — "  flabby,"  if 
one  may  use  the  term.  As  you  study  these  buildings 
closely  you  wonder  how  even  a  seventeenth-century 
bishop  could  wish  to  possess  one  of  the  gaudy  mon- 
strosities. 

When  we  entered  San  Giuseppe  we  were  not  im- 
pressed with  the  beauty  of  the  interior ;  the  bad  taste, 
the  vulgar  display  of  excessive  ornamentation,  op- 
pressed us.  What  we  could  and  did  admire,  however, 
and,  although  we  visited  the  church  many  times  dur- 
ing our  stay  in  Palermo,  never  wearied  of  studying, 
was  the  superb  collection  of  Sicilian  marbles,  plain 
and  inlaid,  of  all  colors,  of  all  grains,  of  all  degrees  of 
beauty,  with  which  the  interior  of  the  church  is  ve- 
neered from  floor  to  roof.  We  found  much  to  inter- 
est us  in  the  details  of  the  embellishment — inlaid  altars, 
beautifully   chiselled   fonts   and  candelabra,  cornices, 

*  Goethe.     Italienische  Reise,  Leipsic,  page  42. 


PULPIT.   CAPPELLA  PALATINA,  PALERMO 


THE    HEART   OF  PALERMO  33 

panels,  crucifixes,  lintels,  and  door-posts  ;  all  delicately 
carved  in  variegated  marbles,  matched  and  joined  to- 
gether as  nicely  as  the  inlaid  woodwork  one  sees  at 
Sorrento  or  the  delicate  mosaics  for  which  the  artists 
of  Florence  are  celebrated.  Assuredly,  the  artificers 
who  embellished  the  interior  of  the  baroque  churches 
in  Palermo  were  as  cunning  to  work  in  marble  as  their 
brethren  who  carved  from  oak  the  chancel  of  the 
cathedral  at  Seville  or  beautified  the  stalls  in  the  choir 
of  II  Duomo  at  Pisa  with  exquisite  marquetry. 

Beneath  the  nave  of  San  Giuseppe  is  another  church, 
dedicated  to  La  Madonna  della  Providenza,  and  below 
that  again  is  a  chapel  sacred  to  Santa  Rosalia.  In  the 
latter  we  bought  a  ticket  at  a  box-office,  giving  for  it 
five  centesimi,  which  was  duly  exchanged  at  a  desk 
for  two  hazel-nuts  wrapped  in  a  paper  on  which  were 
printed  the  directions  for  wisely  and  devoutly  apply- 
ing the  sacred  comestibles,  the  curative  qualities  of 
which  were  confidently  advertised.  From  this  inci- 
dent may  be  gathered  the  idea  that  Sicilians  are 
superstitious.  No  doubt  ignorant  Sicilians  are  very 
superstitious.  Even  Signor  Crispi,  a  Sicilian  born,  is 
said  to  have  inherited  an  implicit  belief  in  charms,  as" 
witness  the  coral  ornament  in  the  shape  of  a  horn 
which  he  is  said  to  wear  on  his  watch-chain  as  a  pro- 
tection against  the  "  evil  eye." 

Near  I  Quattro  Canti,  in  Via  Macqueda,  we  stopped 
to  examine  a  collection  of  ballads  and  cheap  litera- 
ture strung  up  along  the  wall  of  San  Giuseppe.  Mu- 
tatis mutandis,  they  were  of  that  kind  and  quality 
with  which  Londoners  and  New-Yorkers,  for  instance, 
who  pay  attention  to  such  light  and  trivial  matters, 
are  familiar,  and  with  which  the  literary  cravings  of 
3 


34  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

the  "street  arabs"  of  the  two  cities  are  fed,  perforce 
satisfied.  It  was  interesting  to  discover  that  Jack 
Sheppard,  Claude  Duval,  Red  -  Handed  Dick  the 
Scout  of  the  Rockies,  Barney  the  White  Boy,  Old 
Sledge  the  B'ar  Hunter,  found  their  prototypes  in 
Francatrippa,  Fra  Diavolo,  Antonio  Cacciatori  (An- 
tonio the  Lion-hunter),  Botindari,  Brigante  di  Santo 
Mauro,  and  the  like.  Many  of  the  old  "dime-novel" 
heroes  were  represented,  disguised  as  Sicilians,  having 
for  the  nonce  discarded  the  costumes  in  which  they 
had  masqueraded  for  English  and  American  readers. 
We  penetrated  the  incognito  of  some  of  them,  recog- 
nized others  under  their  aliases,  and  enjoyed  for  a  few 
moments  all  the  pleasure  experienced  by  a  detective 
of  Scotland  Yard  or  the  Central  Office  when  he  estab- 
lishes the  identity  of  a  noted  "  crook."  There  were, 
however,  some  entirely  respectable  historical  charac- 
ters whom  we  were  surprised  to  find  in  such  question- 
able company.  Cheek  by  jowl  with  Fra  Diavolo  was 
pious  vEneas ;  Francatrippa's  side  partner  was  no  less 
a  personage  than  the  "dog-eyed  Ulysses."  Hercules, 
slayer  of  the  Nemean  monster,  touched  shoulders  with 
Antonio  the  Lion-hunter;  while  Dionysius  of  Syra- 
cuse, Pyrrhus  of  Epirus,  and  Ruggiero,  Re  di  Sicilia, 
mingled  with  the  crowd  of  more  modern  popular  Sicil- 
ian celebrities,  the  bare  mention  of  whose  names  sends 
a  chill  down  the  vertebrae  of  peaceful  citizens  and 
causes  the  hair  of  the  conventional  good  boy  to  stand 
on  end. 

We  crossed  the  Via  Macqueda  and  entered  the 
Piazza  Pretoria,  where  stands  the  Palazzo  Municipale, 
or  della  Citta,  commonly  called  "  II  Municipio,"  the 
City  Hall.     In  the  centre  of  the  square  is  a  fountain 


THE   HEART    OF   PALERMO  35 

built  in  the  style  of  the  sixteenth  century.  From  the 
variegated  marble  wall  surrounding  the  basin  animals 
of  all  kinds,  carved  in  white  marble,  stretch  out  their 
necks  as  if  trying  to  escape  from  the  port-holes  of  a 
sinking  ship.  The  sculptor  understood  his  zoological 
modelling,  but  the  general  effect  of  the  fountain  is  not 
pleasing,  notwithstanding  it  is  the  "admiration  of  the 
whole  island."  In  this  square  are  also  the  old  Palazzo 
Serradifalco,  and  the  side  entrance  of  the  Church  of 
Santa  Catarina,  which  we  entered  and  found  to  be  gor- 
geously decorated  in  the  baroque,  a  tasteless  jumble 
of  beautiful  marbles,  jaspers,  and  other  rare  stones, 
carved  and  inlaid,  worthy  of  examination  in  detail, 
but  most  disappointing  when  studied  as  a  scheme  of 
interior  decoration. 

From  the  steps  of  the  Church  of  Santa  Catarina  we 
looked  across  the  Piazza  di  Teatro  Bellini  (named  in 
honor  of  the  Sicilian  composer)  and  studied  the  pict- 
ure presented  by  the  Chapel  of  San  Cataldo  and  the 
Church  of  Santa  Maria  del  Ammiraglio,  or  La  Mar- 
torana.  Both  edifices  stand  on  a  platform  above  the 
piazza,  from  which  they  are  reached  by  a  flight  of  stone 
steps.  The  smaller,  begun  in  1161  A.  D.,  was  finished 
twenty  years  later  by  William  I.,  "  The  Good."  Cer- 
tain archaeologists,  however,  assert  that  it  was  erected 
at  an  earlier  date  to  serve  as  a  Moorish  mosque  ;  and 
its  rectangular  form  and  three  cupolas — the  central  one 
supported  by  four  columns  surmounted  by  arches — 
seem  to  lend  plausibility  to  the  statement.  The 
larger  Church  of  La  Martorana,  built  in  1143  by 
George  Antiochenus,  the  Admiral  of  Roger  II.,  first 
Norman  king  of  Sicily,  is,  in  certain  parts  of  it,  one 
of  the  most  remarkable  of  the  existing  monuments  of 


36  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

Arabo-Sicilian  architecture  of  the  twelfth  century. 
The  two  buildings  in  their  various  parts  illustrate 
many  of  the  styles  of  architecture  that  have  been  at 
one  time  or  another,  during  the  last  one  thousand 
years,  in  vogue  in  Sicily.  San  Cataldo  has  low-point- 
ed Moorish  windows  and  an  Arabian  battlemented 
frieze,  carved  with  texts  from  Al- Koran.  The  two 
lower  stories  of  the  Campanile  of  La  Martorana  have 
been  preserved  in  their  primitive  beauty ;  the  two 
upper  stories,  much  more  ornate,  are  probably  of  four- 
teenth-century workmanship.  The  facade  of  La  Mar- 
torana facing  the  piazza  is  of  early  seventeenth-cent- 
ury design.  The  church  has  been  much  "  restored," 
but  is  very  beautiful  still,  and  well  worth  the  careful 
examination  of  antiquarians  and  the  study  of  artists. 
When  La  Martorana  was  built,  Greek  and  Arabic 
were  the  languages  of  the  better  class  of  Sicilians,  as 
is  to  be  learned  from  the  act  of  endowment,  written  in 
those  languages,  a  fact  which  serves  to  prove  that 
Latin  was  not  the  language  of  the  courtier  and  the 
clerk  of  Norman  times.  Upon  entering  La  Martora- 
na we  came  face  to  face  with  one  of  the  most  re- 
markable remains  of  Sicilian-Norman  art,  and  by  one 
glance  at  an  ancient  mosaic  that  shone  as  brightly  as 
the  day  the  workmen  finished  it  we  learned  the  story 
of  Roger,  descendant  of  Vikings,  kinsman  of  William 
of  the  Strong  Arm  and  Robert  Guiscard,  and  ancestor 
of  "  the  greatest  man  who  reigned  in  Europe  between 
the  days  of  Julius  Caesar  and  Napoleon,"  namely,  the 
Emperor  Frederick  II.*  Had  Roger  been  a  man  less 
great  than  history  warrants  him   to   have   been,  the 

*  E.  A.  Freeman.     Essay  on  Frederick  II. 


THE   HEART   OF   PALERMO  37 

mosaic  representing  him  receiving  the  crown  of  the 
kingdom  which  he  had  carved  out  for  himself  with  his 
own  sword,  from  the  hands  of  Christ  Himself,  would 
have  savored  of  blasphemy.  But  when  we  know  how 
Roger  fought,  how  he  governed,  being  every  inch  a 
king,  and  how  he  stood  between  his  people  (a  people 
fortunate,  if  in  nothing  else,  in  that  Roger  conquered 
them)  and  the  ambitions  of  the  Papacy,  that  schemed 
and  fought  to  put  all  men  and  all  things  under  it — 
when  we  know  all  this,  we  realize  that  the  artist  who 
designed  the  mosaic  had  not  presumed  to  flatter  a 
man  who  acknowledged  no  over-lord  but  the  Saviour 
of  mankind. 

It  is  a  famous  old  story,  the  tale  of  the  Normans 
in  Sicily,  a  wonder -inspiring  chronicle  of  great  en- 
deavor and  grand  achievement  by  world -compelling 
men.  Inconsiderable  ideas  and  hints  of  its  glory  have 
been  gathered  from  fragments  of  documentary  evi- 
dence, inaccessible  to  all  but  favored  specialists  who 
find  admission  to  uncatalogued  libraries  of  monaster- 
ies and  palaces.  A  few  disjecta  membra  of  laws  and 
public  records  have  been  rescued  from  oblivion  by 
scholars  who  have  devoted  years  of  their  lives  to  pa- 
tient grubbing  amid  the  mouldering  archives  of  an 
almost  forgotten  epoch. 

Fine  and  inspiring  are  the  few  syllables  we  catch  of 
the  chronicles  of  Roger  and  his  Norman  successors, 
whose  story,  more  strange,  because  truer,  than  the  le- 
gends of  vEneas  and  Ulysses,  more  romantic  than  the 
tale  of  Charlemagne  or  of  that  other  Norman,  William 
the  Conqueror,  is  still  untold,  awaiting  the  scholar 
who  shall  be  inspired  to  sing  the  epic  or  write  the 
history  in  noble  prose. 


38  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

The  sight  of  the  two  ancient  sanctuaries,  the  Chapel 
of  San  Cataldo  and  the  Church  of  La  Martorana,  with 
their  divers  styles  of  architecture,  serves  to  carry  the 
mind  backward,  as  if  on  stepping-stones,  from  time 
present  to  time  past,  from  the  Sicily  of  to-day  to  the 
Sicily  of  the  Norman,  of  the  Saracen.  The  facade  of 
La  Martorana  told  its  story  of  Spanish  rule  when  Sicil- 
ian architects  sought  to  reproduce  the  thought  of  the 
builders  of  the  Cathedral  in  Seville  and  other  Spanish 
cities.  Certain  arches  borne  on  round  columns  and 
fragments  of  ornamentation  suggested  the  chapels  one 
sees  in  far-off  Normandy  or  the  Church  of  St.  Barthol- 
omew the  Great  in  London ;  while  the  friezes  carved 
with  texts  from  Al-Koran,  the  rounded  cupolas  and 
windows  with  arches  constructed  of  alternating  red 
and  white  voussoirs  recalled  the  mosque  at  Cordova, 
"  that  flower  of  Moslem  architecture." 


LA   CAPPELLA    PALATINA 

La  Porta  Nuova  —  The  Royal  Palace  —  King  Roger's  Chapel 
—  Jewelled  Walls  —  La  Stanza  di  Ruggiero  —  Tapestries 
in  Stone. 

"  THE  true  splendor  of  Palermo,  that  which  makes 
the  city  one  of  the  most  glorious  of  the  South,  is  to 
be  sought  in  its  churches :  in  the  mosaics  of  the  Cap- 
pella  Palatina,  founded  by  King  Roger,  the  vast  aisles 
and  cloisters  of  Monreale,  built  by  William  the  Good 
at  the  instance  of  his  chancellor  Matteo  ;  in  the  Cathe- 
dral of  Palermo,  begun  by  Offamilio,  and  in  the  Mar- 
torana,  dedicated  by  George  the  Admiral."*  It  is 
true,  therefore,  that  in  Palermo  one  must  look  for 
"the  noblest  monuments  of  Norman  days."f 

La  Martorana  we  had  seen  when  we  came  upon  it 
unexpectedly  during  our  first  ramble  in  the  heart  of 
the  city.  We  had  yet  to  see  "  the  wonder  of  wonders," 
La  Cappella  Palatina,  "  la  plus  belle  qui  soit  au 
monde,  le  plus  surprenant  bijou  religieux  rev£  par  la 
pensee  humaine  et  execute  par  des  mains  d'artiste." :{: 

On  the  highest  eminence  within  the  old  walls  of 
Palermo,  facing  the  Piazza  Vittorio — formerly  called 

*  T.  Addington  Symonds.     Italian  Sketches. 

f  Sarah  Orne  Jewett.       The  Normans  in  Italy. 

%  Guy  de  Maupassant.     La  Vie  Errante. 


40  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

Piano  del  Palazzo — there  is  a  row  of  buildings  as  in- 
congruous in  architectural  effect  as  can  well  be  im- 
agined. To  the  right,  spanning  II  Corso,  stands  La 
Porta  Nuova,  a  triumphal  arch  erected  on  the  site  of 
Porta  del  Sole,  in  1535  A.D.,  to  commemorate  the 
"  joyous  entrance  "  of  Charles  V.  when  he  visited  Pa- 
lermo on  his  return  from  his  expedition  to  Tunis. 
Some  say  that  the  plans  for  this  gateway  were  drawn 
by  Michael  Angelo,  others  by  Pietro  Novelli,  the  Si- 
cilian artist ;  but  it  is  more  probable  that  Gaspard 
Quercio,  the  constructor  of  the  arch,  also  drew  the  de- 
signs for  it.  It  is  a  quaint  and  picturesque  specimen 
of  sixteenth-century  architecture,  and  was  originally 
named  Porta  Austria  by  the  Senate  of  Palermo ;  but 
the  Palermitans,  having  no  cause  to  love  Charles  V. 
or  to  honor  his  memory,  insisted  on  renaming  it  Porta 
Nuova,  and  so  it  is  called  to-day.  This  gateway  is 
connected  with  the  Royal  Palace  by  a  corridor  two 
stories  in  height,  with  balustrades  surmounting  its 
cornice.  None  of  the  buildings  composing  the  palace 
are  older  than  Norman  times,  although  certain  foun- 
dations laid  in  the  days  of  the  Saracen  emirs  are  still 
in  existence,  and,  possibly,  some  of  the  walls  of  the 
Saracenic  nucleus  around  which  Robert  Guiscard, 
Count  Roger,  King  Roger,  William  the  Good,  and 
Frederick  II.  built  their  towers  and  keeps. 

This  group  of  buildings  presents  to-day  an  appear- 
ance very  different  from  its  aspect  in  Norman  times. 
Then,  many  towers  and  battlemented  edifices  occu- 
pied the  space  within  the  fortified  enclosure.  At 
present,  none  but  La  Torre  Pisana — now  called  "  San- 
ta Ninfa  " — remains  to  serve  as  a  reminder  of  the  age 
of  chivalry.     Santa  Ninfa   has  been  used  for  many 


LA  CAPPELLA  PALATINA  41 

years  as  an  astronomical  observatory,  where,  in  1790, 
Piazzi  compiled  his  catalogues  of  the  fixed  stars,  and 
where  he  discovered  a  planetoid  to  which,  in  honor  of 
the  ancient  protectress  of  Sicily,  he  gave  the  name 
Ceres.  In  the  times  of  Spanish  viceroys  the  hand  of 
the  restorer  was  laid  on  so  much  of  the  Norman  pal- 
ace as  had  escaped  demolition  during  the  civil  wars  of 
the  last  half  of  the  fourteenth  century,  when  it  was 
occupied  in  turn  by  both  contending  factions  during 
their  contests  for  possession  of  Palermo.  In  those 
evil  days  it  was  robbed  of  its  ancient  splendor,  and 
the  magnificent  home  of  the  Norman  kings  became 
unfit  for  the  dwelling-place  of  royalty,  so  that  Martin 
and  Alfonzo  of  Aragon  deserted  it,  preferring  to  lodge 
in  a  palace  of  the  Chiaramonti.  So  ruthlessly  was 
the  work  of  destruction  carried  on  that  there  remains 
of  the  original  palace  little  else  than  La  Torre  Santa 
Ninfa,  La  Stanza  di  Ruggiero,  and  La  Cappella  Pala- 
tina. 

On  the  ground  now  occupied  by  one  of  the  least 
attractive  edifices  "composing  the  Palazzo  Reale  once 
stood  La  Chiesa  di  Santa  Maria  la  Pinta,  built  by 
Belisarius  about  the  year  535  A.D.  Pity  it  is  that  this 
old  relic  has  been  utterly  destroyed.  It  was  in  the 
style  of  the  very  earliest  Christian  basilicas,  and  marked 
the  period  of  transition  from  Greek  temple  to  Chris- 
tian church ;  but  its  proportions  and  plan  are  only  to 
be  guessed  at  by  architects  of  to-day.  The  chapel  of 
Belisarius  gave  place  ages  ago  to  less  interesting  halls 
and  chambers. 

Entering  the  main  door  of  the  palace,  we  found  our- 
selves in  a  court-yard  having  an  arcade  of  three  open- 
ings in  each  face.     We  ascended  a  staircase  to  the 


42  PICTURESQUE   SICILY 

first  floor,  and,  turning  to  the  right,  stood  before  the 
door  of  La  Cappella  Palatina,  the  royal  chapel  dedi- 
cated to  St.  Peter  by  Roger  II.  before  the  year  1132 
A.D.  The  wall  of  the  vestibule  is  embellished  with 
mosaics  of  modern  workmanship  above  a  wainscoting 
of  plates  of  white  marble  streaked  with  black,  which 
at  a  short  distance  resembles  satin  hangings  with 
many -colored  borders  of  arabesque  designs.  In  the 
early  morning  the  sunlight  falls  upon  the  marble  pave- 
ment within  the  portals  of  the  only  entrance  to  the 
chapel,  a  small  door  in  the  side  wall  at  the  angle  far- 
thest from  the  grand  altar.  When  we  stepped  across 
the  sill,  the  interior  of  the  sanctuary  was  shrouded  in 
darkness.  As  we  stood  in  silence,  wondering,  we  be- 
came conscious  of  dormant  color-tones  blending  with 
deep,  soft  shadows,  as  mysterious,  as  entrancing  as  mel- 
odies heard  from  a  distance  through  a  calm  night. 
Broad  bands  and  beams  of  sunlight,  falling  obliquely 
athwart  the  darkness  of  the  nave  and  chancel,  were 
reflected  upward  from  the  marble  pavement  and  illum- 
inated the  high -altar  and  the  apse  above  it.  This 
mysterious  radiance  revealed  the  figure  of  Christ,  His 
right  hand  raised  in  the  act  of  blessing,  the  attitude  in 
which  He  is  always  represented  in  Norman -Sicilian 
mosaics.  In  His  left  hand  He  holds  an  open  book, 
on  the  pages  of  which  is  the  inscription,  in  Greek  text : 
"  I  am  the  Light  of  the  World."  The  figure  is  colos- 
sal, its  bearing  majestical,  its  aspect  benign.  The  de- 
sign, which  is  on  a  golden  ground,  is  drawn  in  strong 
lines,  and  one  marvels  at  the  genius  of  the  artist  who 
has  expressed  so  much  by  the  use  of  means  and  ma- 
terials so  simple.  Nevertheless,  the  grand  presence 
fills  the  church  ;  all  other  ideas  are  subordinated  to  the 


LA   CAPPELLA   PALATINA  43 

effect  to  be  produced  upon  the  minds  and  souls  of 
men  by  the  revelation  of  the  face  of  the  Son  of  God. 
And  it  is  the  face  of  a  God  !  Passionless,  calm,  imper- 
turbable— a  grand  ideal ;  not  of  the  "  Man  of  Sorrows  " 
— the  "  Crucified  One  " — but  the  Son  of  God  ascended 
and  sitting  on  the  right  hand  of  the  Father.  So  the 
old  Byzantine  artists  represented  the  Saviour  of  man- 
kind ;  and  no  face  of  Christ,  no  "  Ecce  Homo,"  more 
perfectly  realizes  the  divine  character  of  God  incarnate 
than  the  old  Norman  pictorial  mosaic  when  illuminated 
by  the  light  of  the  sun  reflected  from  the  marble  pave- 
ment and  jewelled  walls  of  La  Cappella  Palatina. 

Gradually,  as  the  eye  becomes  accustomed  to  the 
contrast  of  deep  shadows  and  sharply  defined  bands 
of  light,  other  forms  and  faces  grow  out  of  the  dark- 
ness, becoming  visible  through  and  beyond  the  golden 
sunbeams.  The  mosaics  on  the  upper  walls,  the  mar- 
ble wainscoting,  the  inlaid  floor,  the  polished  columns, 
gleam  and  glisten,  imparting  to  the  atmosphere  of 
the  chapel  a  color  quality  of  its  own,  as  if  it  had  ab- 
sorbed and  were  suffused  with  rainbow  hues,  emanat- 
ting  from  the  precious  material  with  which  La  Pa- 
latina is  adorned  and  rendered  glorious. 

The  interior,  consisting  of  a  nave,  aisles,  and  triple 
apse,  is  one  hundred  and  eight  feet  in  length,  includ- 
ing the  eastern  apse,  and  forty -two  feet  in  width. 
Ten  columns  of  Egyptian  granite  and  Greek  marble, 
sixteen  feet  in  height,  uphold  Saracenic  pointed  and 
stilted  arches,  which  in  turn  support  walls  encrusted 
with  mosaics ;  and  above  all  is  a  curiously  carved 
wooden  roof  resembling  the  vault  of  a  cavern  of  stal- 
actites in  the  early  stages  of  their  formation.  In 
modelling,  the  ceiling  reminds  one  of  that  in  the  Sala 


44  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

de  los  Abencerrages  in  the  Alhambra,  save  that  what 
is  there  pearly  white  is  here  bronzed,  painted,  and 
golden ;  that  showing  like  whitest  marble,  this  like 
jasper.  Five  marble  steps  lead  to  the  choir,  over 
which  rises  a  dome  seventy-five  feet  in  height,  solidly 
encrusted  with  mosaics,  except  where  eight  windows 
pierce  the  wall.  All  the  floors  of  the  chapel  are  cov- 
ered with  inlaid  marble  plates,  and  the  walls  above  the 
"  cipollino  "  wainscoting,  in  the  aisles  and  above  the 
capitals  of  the  pillars  in  the  nave,  are  overlaid  with 
exquisite  pictorial  mosaics,  in  which  large  quantities  of 
lapis  lazuli,  not  to  mention  more  precious  stones,  have 
been  lavishly  used.  All  the  mosaics  are  on  a  golden 
ground,  ornamented,  radiant  with  Oriental  colors,  har- 
monious, splendid. 

The  Normans  of  France  and  England,  with  ready 
wit  and  admirable  discretion,  adapting  themselves  to 
their  environment,  indulged  an  inborn  love  of  poly- 
chrome by  using  stained  glass  in  the  windows  of  their 
churches,  which  produced  charming  effects  of  rich  and 
varied  coloring.  Glass  windows  are  a  necessity  in  the 
chill  North-land.  In  the  sunny  South  they  can  easily 
be  spared ;  and  the  artists  who  enriched  La  Pala- 
tina  and  La  Martorana  secured  no  less  beautiful 
color- effects  than  those  of  stained  glass  by  well- 
studied  blendings  of  the  tints  and  colorings  of  the  rare 
stones  with  which  they  adorned  the  interiors  of  these 
churches.  So  perfectly  do  the  mosaics  of  La  Palatina 
lend  themselves  to  the  intention  of  their  makers,  so 
softly  do  they  reflect  the  light  of  day,  that  the  edifice 
in  which  they  are  exclusively  used  to  decorate  all  parts 
of  the  interior  is  illuminated  by  the  same  mysterious 
light  which,  falling  from  "  irised  panes,"  transforms 


LA   CAPPELLA   PALATINA  45 

the  naves  and  choirs  of  Northern  cathedrals  until  they 
glow  with  all  the  tints  of  the  bow  of  promise. 

The  pictorial  mosaics  in  La  Palatina,  as  do  those 
in  the  Cathedral  of  Monreale,  the  paintings  on  the 
walls  of  Campo  Santo,  in  Pisa,  and  the  frescos  by 
Giotto  in  the  Arena  Chapel  in  Padua,  represent  sub- 
jects drawn  from  the  Old  Testament,  the  life  of 
Christ,  and  the  lives  of  His  Apostles,  particularly  from 
the  life  of  St.  Peter,  who  is  said  to  have  preached  in 
the  primitive  church  which  he  established  on  this  same 
site  when  he  was  returning  from  Africa  to  Rome  to 
meet  his  death  on  the  Janiculum,  where  is  now  the 
Chapel  of  San  Pietro  in  Montorio.  On  the  right  of 
the  nave,  by  the  steps  leading  to  the  choir,  is  a  pulpit 
(a  plain  cube  of  red  porphyry  with  a  frieze  of  white 
marble  encrusted  with  mosaics  and  inlaid  with  dainty 
geometrical  patterns  of  the  same  material),  borne  aloft 
on  four  marble  columns  exquisitely  engraved  and  del- 
icately carved.  The  frank  simplicity  of  the  design 
and  the  unostentatious  enriching  of  the  work  are 
most  charming.  To  have  highly  embellished  the  rare 
material  of  which  this  piece  is  composed  would  be 
"  to  gild  refined  gold,  to  paint  the  lily."  By  the 
pulpit  stands  a  very  ancient  carved  white  candela- 
brum fourteen  feet  in  height.  Some  say  King  Roger 
imported  it  from  the  East,  others  that  it  was  wrought 
by  Norman-Sicilian  artists.  In  either  case  it  bears  wit- 
ness to  the  wonderful  degree  of  perfection  to  which 
the  art  of  carving  in  stone  was  carried  in  the  days 
when  it  was  chiselled  from  the  solid  block.  Between 
the  shadows  of  the  nave  and  the  brightness  of  the 
choir,  almost  directly  above  the  steps  leading  to  the 
latter,  there  hangs  a  large  silver  lamp,  said  to  have 


46  PICTURESQUE   SICILY 

been  also  the  gift  of  King  Roger.  It  is  a  fine  speci- 
men of  repousse  work,  the  great  size  and  beauty  of 
which  testify  to  the  wealth  and  munificence  of  the 
donor  and  to  the  skill  of  his  silversmiths.  But  in  the 
midst  of  the  splendor  of  general  effect  the  richness 
even  of  such  details  of  adornment  is  overlooked. 

La  Cappella  Palatina  is  hidden  away  in  the  mass  of 
the  other  buildings  appertaining  to  the  Royal  Palace. 
It  is  not  a  separate  edifice,  but  a  chamber  in  the 
midst  of  other  halls  and  apartments.  It  has  but  one 
entrance  from  the  open  air,  and  the  few  short,  broad, 
pointed  windows,  small  in  size,  in  the  walls  of  the 
lower  story  are  very  probably  of  modern  construction. 
Light  admitted  through  the  eight  windows  in  the  cu- 
pola falls  with  fine  effect  on  masterpieces  of  mosaic 
and  marble  carvings.  The  nave  is  left  in  comparative 
darkness,  and  when  the  choir  and  chancel  are  illumi- 
nated by  sunshine  one  looks  from  a  darkened  audito- 
rium upon  what  may  be  likened  to  a  stage,  rendered 
bright  by  lights  masked  from  the  eye  of  the  beholder. 
The  spectacular  effect  is  fine — theatrical  perhaps,  but 
the  impression  produced  upon  the  mind  of  the  specta- 
tor is  deep  and  enduring.  If  a  Gothic  cathedral  has 
been  well  likened  to  a  "  poem  in  stone,"  surely  La 
Palatina  may  be  compared  to  a  melody  of  exquisite 
color-tones. 

From  the  Chapel  of  King  Roger  we  found  our  way 
to  the  upper  stories  of  the  Palazzo  Reale,  passing  rap- 
idly through  certain  royal  apartments  furnished  per- 
haps by  the  last  of  the  Bourbon  kings  of  the  Two 
Sicilies,  certainly  in  extremely  bad  taste  whenever  or 
by  whomsoever  furnished.  We  came  at  length  to 
La  Stanza  di  Ruggiero,  said  to  be  in  very  truth  the 


LA   CAPPELLA   PALATINA  47 

apartment  once  occupied  by  King  Roger  himself.  We 
have  said  that  of  all  the  edifices  which  composed  the 
fortress-palace  in  Moslem  or  Norman  times,  there  re- 
mains in  this  day  and  generation  none  but  La  Torre 
Pisana  and  La  Cappella  Palatina.  Of  all  the  wonder- 
ful interior  decorations,  the  work  of  Byzantine,  Sara- 
cenic, or  Norman  artists,  there  are  no  vestiges,  save  in 
the  tower,  where  there  is  one  apartment  ornamented 
with  mosaics  which  still  retain  their  beauty  of  color- 
ing and  cling  as  firmly  to  the  walls  which  they  encrust 
as  they  did  when  they  were  first  placed  in  position. 

As  the  Normans  of  northern  Europe  employed 
tapestries  to  hide  the  bare  walls  of  their  palaces,  so 
their  kinsmen  of  the  south  of  Europe  made  use  of 
mosaics  to  decorate  their  chambers  and  halls.  By 
fitting  together  cubes  of  agate,  lapis  lazuli,  jasper,  and 
other  rare  stones,  King  Roger's  artists  produced  pic- 
torial mosaics  of  wonderful  beauty  displaying  no  less 
ingenuity  and  skill  in  encrusting  the  walls  of  churches 
and  state  apartments  than  did  the  workmen  of  the 
North  in  weaving  rare  fabrics  for  the  Norman  kings  of 
England ;  moreover,  the  mosaics  are  more  artistic  in 
design  and  execution  than  the  Bayeux  tapestries 
which  Queen  Emma  presented  to  her  lord,  William 
the  Conqueror.  The  threads  of  Queen  Emma's  tapes- 
tries have  slowly  mouldered  until  they  are  as  easily  to 
be  broken  as  burned  strands  of  flax  or  wool.  Their 
colors  have  faded  until  in  places  one  must  guess  at 
lines  and  imagine  designs;  but  the  mosaics  in  old 
Roger's  room  are  as  adamantine  in  their  composition, 
as  fresh  and  dainty  in  their  coloring,  as  they  were 
when  Roger  first  looked  upon  them. 


VI 

MONREALE 

King  William  the  Good — The  Cathedral  of  Santa  Maria  Nuova 
— The  Basilica  on  Mount  Royal — The  Benedictine  Clois- 
ters— Treasures  of  Architecture — Norman  Splendor. 

William  II.,  called  "  The  Good,"  had  long  desired 
to  build  a  church  in  honor  of  "The  Holy  Mother  of 
God,"  but  being  at  a  loss  to  choose  a  site  for  the 
sanctuary,  he  prayed  that  the  Madonna  herself  would 
indicate  the  place  where  it  might  please  her  to  have 
a  church  and  shrine.  One  day,  returning  from  the 
chase,  the  good  King  reposed  at  Monreale,  and  in  his 
sleep  the  Holy  Virgin  appeared  and  commanded  him 
to  build  on  that  very  spot  the  church  which  he  pur- 
posed erecting  in  her  honor.  The  King  awoke  and 
vowed  to  endow  a  cathedral  which  should  surpass  in 
magnificence  all  Sicilian  churches.  In  1174  he  found- 
ed on  Monreale — "  The  Royal  Mount" — the  Church  of 
Santa  Maria  Nuova  and  the  adjoining  Benedictine 
monastery.  In  11 82,  thanks  to  the  assistance  rendered 
him  by  his  mother,  Margaret  of  Aragon,  the  edifice, 
the  splendor  and  magnificence  of  which  redounded  to 
the  glory  of  William  the  Good,  was  finished  and  con- 
secrated. 

Around  the  cathedral  and  its  chapter-houses  there 
sprang  up  a  considerable  town,  which  to-day  has  a 


MONREALE  49 

population  of  sixteen  or  seventeen  thousand.  Mon- 
reale  (pronounced  Mar-ri-a-li  by  its  Sicilian  inhabi- 
tants) is  four  miles  from  Palermo.  The  highway 
thither,  known  as  Corso  Calatafimi,  constructed  in 
1550  by  the  Spanish  Viceroy  Marc- Antonio  Colonna, 
passes  through  gardens  and  villas,  orange  and  lemon 
groves,  olive  plantations  and  vineyards,  and  then 
mounts  the  abrupt  and  rocky  heights  from  which 
Monreale  looks  down  upon  an  earthly  paradise.  Vice- 
roy Colonna  caused  to  be  placed  at  intervals  along 
the  grand  avenue  fountains,  surrounded  by  seats  from 
which  visitors  and  pilgrims  to  Monreale  can  enjoy 
the  wonderful  prospects  which  present  themselves  at 
every  turn  of  the  road. 

The  Cathedral  of  Monreale  is  situated  at  the  en- 
trance of  the  town,  and  beyond  it,  along  the  hill-side, 
the  old  houses  stand  in  irregular  rows,  curiously 
mediaeval  in  aspect  and  surroundings.  The  glimpses 
we  caught  up  and  down  the  streets  impressed  us 
strangely,  as  if  in  coming  from  Palermo  we  had  gone 
backwards  several  centuries  —  if  not  indeed  to  King 
William's  time,  at  least  to  the  days  when  the  Colonnas 
were  viceroys  and  Sicily  was  a  province  of  Old  Spain. 

The  exterior  of  the  cathedral  is  very  simple,  not  to 
say  plain,  in  appearance ;  the  three  apses  at  the  east 
end  are  ornamented  from  top  to  bottom  with  tiers  of 
small  pillars  and  interlacing  arches,  the  latter  of  alter- 
nate voussoirs  of  black  and  white  stone.  The  edifice 
is  in  the  shape  of  a  Latin  cross,  the  dimensions  of 
which  are  variously  stated  in  different  guide-books 
and  descriptions  of  the  cathedral.*     We  incline  to  the 

*  Length,  334  feet ;  width,  131  feet. — Baedeker,  Southern  Italy  and 


50  PICTURESQUE  SICILY 

belief  that  Baedeker  is  to  be  relied  upon  for  the 
accurate  measurements  —  viz,  length,  three  hundred 
and  thirty-four  feet ;  width,  one  hundred  and  thirty- 
one  feet. 

Like  all  Sicilian  basilicas,  Monreale  has  between  the 
towers  an  atrium,  or  portico,  the  front  wall  of  which 
was  originally  decorated  with  a  carved  marble  screen 
surmounted  by  an  entablature  of  mosaics  representing 
eight  scenes  from  the  life  of  the  Virgin.  The  west 
portal  is  pointed ;  the  pilasters  at  the  sides  are  en- 
riched with  Greek  scrolls  and  mosaics,  and  it  has 
bronze  doors,  each  of  the  two  leaves  of  which  is  di- 
vided into  twenty-four  compartments  containing  low- 
reliefs  of  subjects  taken  from  the  Old  and  New  Testa- 
ments, all  executed  by  Bonannus  civis  Pisanus.  This 
artist,  according  to  Vasari,  worked  at  Pisa  with  Guliel- 
mo  Tedesco,  aided  by  whom  he  designed  the  doors 
of  II  Duomo  and  "  the  famous  leaning  campanile,  the 
marvel  of  all  ages  and  of  all  men."  The  bronze  doors 
of  the  north  portal  of  Monreale,  by  Barisano  da  Trani, 
are  of  later  date.  The  portico,  which  extends  the  full 
length  of  the  nave  on  the  north  side  of  the  cathedral, 
was  added  by  Alexander  Farnese,  Archbishop  of  Mon- 
reale, in  1586.  The  exterior  of  Monreale  was  never 
finished  —  it  awaits  embellishment  and  decoration; 
therefore  it  conveys  no  idea  of  the  wonderful  interior, 
which  we  entered  from  the  Piazza  del  Duomo  by  a 
door  in  the  side  of  the  north  aisle. 

Monreale  has  a  nave  and  two  aisles ;  two  rows  of 
nine  columns  of  Oriental  granite  support  stilted  and 

Sicily.  Length,  102  metres ;  width,  40  metres. — Carlo  Clausen,  Guide 
de  Palermo.  Length,  85  metres;  width,  24  metres. — Gustave  Clausse, 
Basiliques  et  Mosa'iques. 


MONREALE  5 1 

pointed  arches,  above  which  are  nine  windows  in  the 
clerestory ;  other  windows  admit  light  to  the  aisles. 
The  choir  and  transept  (the  latter  taking  in  the  width 
of  the  aisles)  form  a  Latin  cross;  the  floor  is  here 
raised  above  that  of  the  nave,  and  is  reached  by  seven 
steps  within  a  beautiful  altar  rail  of  carved  marble. 
"  The  nave  and  aisles  have  apses  at  their  eastern  ex- 
tremities ;  that  of  the  nave,  in  which  is  the  high  altar, 
is  of  striking  proportions  and  impressive  size ;  the 
other  two,  less  elevated,  contain  smaller  altars.  All 
the  openings,  the  grand  arches  of  the  choir,  the  vault- 
ing of  the  aisles,  the  windows  and  doors,  are  of  the 
style  adopted  by  Arab  architects  of  the  eleventh  and 
twelfth  centuries;  but  in  the  details  of  construction 
and  ornamentation  Monreale  belongs  to  no  one  school 
of  art."  The  splendid  work  of  Norman-Sicilian  artists 
is  "  Latin  in  its  shape,  Roman  in  its  colonnade,  Byz- 
antine in  its  mosaics,  Greek  in  its  sculpture,  Sara- 
cenic and  Norman  in  its  many  mouldings"  (and,  we 
may  add,  baroque  as  to  its  restorations),  exhibiting  a 
"  most  curious  combination  of  styles."*  The  eighteen 
columns  of  Oriental  granite  are  monoliths  taken  from 
Greek  and  Roman  buildings.  Some  of  the  capitals 
are  antique,  but  a  greater  part  are  of  the  age  of  the 
founding  of  Monreale.  These  last  are  of  similar  pat- 
terns, "  exhibiting  foliage,  volutes  in  the  shape  of  cor- 
nucopias with  figures  intermixed,"  and  all  are  of  the 
most  delicate  workmanship,  such  as  the  Byzantine 
Greeks  knew  how  to  fashion.  On  one  capital  is  a 
curious  group  representing  King  William  in  the  act  of 
introducing  the  archbishop  to  the  Holy  Virgin,  emble- 

*  Henry  KnigAt,  Esq. ,  M.  P.      The  Normans  in  Sicily. 


52  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

matic  of  the  subordination  of  Church  to  State,  a  char- 
acteristically Norman  way  of  asserting  the  divine  right 
of  heaven-anointed  kings.  The  lower  walls  of  both 
aisles  and  of  the  choir  and  apses  are  wainscoted  with 
plates  of  cipollino  surmounted  by  a  Saracenic  trefoil 
of  rich  marble  on  a  ground  of  mosaics,  which,  as  in 
the  portico  of  La  Palatina,  has  the  appearance  of  white 
satin  hangings  with  embroidered  silken  borders.  All 
of  the  floors  are  of  variegated  and  inlaid  marbles,  and 
above  the  wainscoting  of  cipollino  all  the  walls,  arches, 
arcades,  and  vaultings  of  aisles,  nave  and  choir,  transept 
and  apses,  are  solidly  incrusted  with  Byzantine  mosa- 
ics on  a  golden  ground.  The  wall  surface  so  covered 
is,  according  to  Baedeker,  seventy  thousand  four  hun- 
dred square  feet. 

Of  all  churches,  St.  Mark's  in  Venice  alone  can  vie 
with  Monreale  in  the  extent  of  wall  surface  covered 
with  mosaics ;  but  in  the  quality  of  material  used  and 
in  the  skilful  workmanship  displayed  by  the  makers 
of  them,  the  mosaics  of  Monreale  excel  all  but  those 
in  the  cathedral  of  Cefalu  even  the  mosaics  in  the 
Battistero  degli  Ortodossi  in  Ravenna  being  distinctly 
inferior. 

The  names  of  the  architects  of  Monreale  are  un- 
known. Vasari  attributes  the  fact  "  to  the  stupidity  of 
the  artists  or  to  their  contempt  of  fame."  The  evidence 
afforded  by  careful  examination  of  the  mosaics  estab- 
lishes the  fact  that  King  William  intrusted  the  direc- 
tion of  the  work  of  the  embellishment  to  Greek — that 
is  to  say,  Byzantine — artists,  or  to  their  Sicilian  disci- 
ples, who  succeeded  in  producing  "  the  most  gorgeous 
display  of  Byzantine  decoration  now  in  existence." 

All  the  personages  represented  in1  the  pictorial  mo- 


MONREALE  53 

saics  are  in  Byzantine  costumes ;  Greek  inscriptions 
appear  everywhere.  On  the  grand  arch  which  sepa- 
rates the  nave  from  the  choir  is  the  image  of  "Divine 
Wisdom,"  before  which  the  archangels  Michael  and 
Gabriel  prostrate  themselves.  But  it  is  in  the  colossal 
half-length  figure  of  Christ  in  the  dome  of  the  central 
apse  that  Byzantine  art  most  distinctly  asserts  itself. 
The  Redeemer — "  Christ,  the  Creator" — appears  sur- 
rounded by  a  vision  of  the  Apocalypse  and  the  Apos- 
tles ;  His  countenance  reminds  one  of  the  faces  of 
colossal  Greek  or  Egyptian  statues  —  placid,  majes- 
tical,  godlike.  He  has  a  full  beard,  long,  flowing 
hair  —  a  cruciform  nimbus  proclaims  the  God;  His 
form  is  enveloped  in  a  blue  mantle,  partly  opened, 
displaying  a  red  tunic  embroidered  in  gold.  His 
right  hand  is  raised  to  bless,  His  left  holds  an  open 
book,  in  which  appear  the  words  in  Greek  text,  "  I  am 
the  Light  of  the  World ;  whoso  follows  Me  shall  not 
walk  in  darkness."  "  Below  the  figure  of  the  God- 
Creator  sits  the  Holy  Virgin  on  her  throne,  wrapped 
in  a  veil  of  dark  blue,  holding  in  her  arms  the  Divine 
Infant  clothed  in  a  red  tunic.  The  face  of  the  Virgin 
is  of  a  classic  type,  of  which  the  original  must  be 
sought  in  Grecian  sculpture." 

The  upper  parts  of  the  walls  of  the  nave  are  cov- 
ered with  mosaics,  representing  scenes  drawn  from  the 
Old  Testament,  from  "  The  Creation  "  to  "  The  Strug- 
gle of  Jacob  with  the  Angel,"  etc.  One  is  impressed 
by  the  thought  that  from  these  same  mosaics,  or  from 
copies  of  them,  Michael  Angelo  may  have  drawn  in- 
spiration for  certain  of  his  designs  on  the  ceiling  of 
the  Sistine  Chapel  in  Rome.  That  this  is  likely  will 
appear  to  any  one  who  compares  Michael  Angelo's 


54  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

"  Separation  of  Light  from  Darkness,"  in  the  Sistine 
Chapel,  with  the  "  Separation  of  the  Waters  from  the 
Land,"  the  fourth  of  the  series  of  mosaics  in  the  nave 
of  Monreale.  Not  only  in  conception  are  both  repre- 
sentations similar,  but  the  attitudes  of  the  Creator  in 
both  are  alike  in  composition.  Nine  subjects  from 
Bible  history  illustrated  by  Michael  Angelo,  and  espe- 
cially "  The  Sacrifice  of  Noah,"  may  have  been  sug- 
gested by  the  twelfth -century  mosaics  to  the  great 
artist  who  painted  his  wonderful  masterpieces  more 
than  three  hundred  years  later.  We  do  not  unduly 
insist  on  the  idea  that  Michael  Angelo  copied,  or  even 
drew,  inspiration  from  the  works  of  the  older  artists 
who  embellished  Monreale ;  we  merely  wish  to  con- 
vey some  idea  of  the  kind  and  quality  of  designs 
executed  by  King  William's  craftsmen. 

In  the  transept  are  subjects  from  the  New  Testa- 
ment: "An  Angel  Announcing  the  Coming  of  Christ 
to  Zacharias,"  "The  Massacre  of  the  Innocents," 
"Joseph's  Dream,"  "The  Flight  into  Egypt,"  "The 
Presentation  in  the  Temple,"  "  Jesus  before  the  Doc- 
tors," "The  Wedding  at  Cana,"  "The  Baptism  of 
Christ ";  and  on  the  walls  of  the  choir,  "  The  Tempta- 
tion," "The  Transfiguration,"  and  "The  Resurrec- 
tion." In  the  two  lateral  apses  are  large  tableaux  of 
St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul,  considered  the  most  remark- 
able Sicilian  mosaics  of  the  thirteenth  century. 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  world  of  angels,  archangels, 
prophets,  patriarchs,  martyrs,  monks,  and  holy  wom- 
en, amid  the  portraits  of  saints  and  kings,  two  mosaics 
in  the  choir  possess  a  particular  historical  interest. 
One,  that  on  the  right,  above  the  archiepiscopal  seat, 
represents  William  II.  offering  the  Cathedral  to  the 


MONREALE  55 

Virgin  ;  the  other,  that  on  the  left,  above  the  royal 
throne,  exhibits  Christ  in  the  act  of  placing  the  crown 
on  King  William's  head,  recalling  the  mosaic  in  La 
Martorana  of  Roger  II.  receiving  the  crown  from  the 
same  Divine  Over-lord.  Following  the  example  of  his 
grandfather,  William  II.,  good  son  of  the  Church  as 
he  was,  caused  the  fact  to  be  emphasized  in  Monreale 
that  the  Norman  kings  of  Sicily  acknowledged  no 
suzerainty  but  that  of  the  Creator  and  Redeemer  of 
the  world.  Proud  and  independent  were  these  old 
Normans,  whose  ancestor  Roger  proclaimed  himself 
" Rex  Divina  Favente  dementia"  (King  by  the  favor 
of  Divine  mercy),  as  his  Norman-English  contempo- 
raries claimed  to  be  "Reges  Dei  Gratia  "  (Kings  by  the 
Grace  of  God). 

The  ceiling  of  the  nave  is  of  wood,  gabled  with 
beams  decorated  in  gold  and  painted  in  bright  colors. 
It  was  constructed  in  181 1  to  replace  the  old  roof 
which  was  destroyed  by  fire,  the  expense  of  the  restora- 
tion being  borne  by  King  Louis  I.  of  Bavaria.  In  the 
south  transept  are  two  porphyry  sarcophagi,  contain- 
ing the  remains  of  William  I.  and  William  II.  In  the 
north  aisles  are  the  tombs  of  Queen  Margaret  of  Ara- 
gon,  mother  of  William  the  Good  ;  and  those  of  Roger, 
Duke  of  Apulia,  and  of  Henry,  Prince  of  Capua,  sons  of 
William  the  Bad.  Beneath  an  altar,  also  in  the  north 
aisle,  is  a  sarcophagus  containing  the  heart  of  St. 
Louis  of  France,  whose  body  rests  in  the  sanctuary  of 
the  French  kings  at  St.  Denis,  near  Paris.  Louis  IX., 
the  last  of  the  Crusaders,  died  in  Tunis,  of  the  plague,  in 
1270  A.D.  Near  that  city  there  is  a  little  town,  Sidi-ben- 
Said,  the  "  Village  of  the  Saint,"  to-day  an  Arab  vil- 
lage of  peculiar  sanctity,  so  sacred  that  no  Christian  is 


5^  PICTURESQUE   SICILY 

allowed  to  sleep  there.  Strange  as  it  may  appear,  the 
saint  who  gave  its  renown  to  Sidi-ben-Said  was  no 
less  a  personage  than  this  same  Louis,  King  of  France. 
So  widely  were  his  virtues  known  by  the  Saracens 
whom  he  came  to  conquer  that  they  wished  to  be- 
lieve he  died  a  true  Moslem,  and  their  descendants 
to-day  maintain  that  the  body  of  the  Christian  king 
lies  in  the  mosque  of  the  little  town  which  his  spirit- 
ual presence  sanctifies.  And  when  they  are  asked, 
"Was  he  not  an  unbeliever  and  a  Frank?"  the  Arabs 
quote  from  Al-Koran  :  "  Say  unto  the  Christians  that 
their  God  and  our  God  is  one." 

The  artists  who  embellished  Monreale  in  the  latter 
part  of  the  twelfth  and  the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth 
centuries  were  in  every  way  the  equals  in  artistic  abili- 
ties of  the  Italian  masters  who  lived  and  worked  a 
century  later.  Therefore,  when  we  talk  of  "  The 
Renaissance,"  we  should  not  forget  that  long  before 
Giotto  had  executed  his  wonderful  frescos  in  the 
Arena  Chapel  at  Padua,  the  Sicilian  artists  in  the  em- 
ploy of  William  the  Good  had  produced  works  of 
art  that  to-day  challenge  the  wonder  and  admiration 
of  critics. 

"  Other  cathedrals  may  surpass  that  of  Monreale  in 
sublimity,  simplicity,  bulk,  strength,  or  unity  of  plan. 
None  can  surpass  it  in  the  strange  romance  with 
which  the  memory  of  its  many  artificers  invests  it. 
None  can  exceed  it  in  richness  and  glory,  the  gor- 
geousness  of  a  thousand  decorative  elements."  * 

Adjoining  the  cathedral  is  the  Benedictine  monas- 
tery, founded  at  the  same  time  as  the  church.   To-day, 

*T.  Addington  Symonds.     Italian  Sketches. 


CARVED    CAPITALS.       CLOISTERS    OF   MONREALE 


CARVED    CAPITALS.       CLOISTERS    OF    MONREALE 


MONREALE  57 

however,  nothing  remains  of  the  original  buildings 
but  the  cloisters,  than  which  there  are  no  more  su- 
perb examples  of  twelfth-century  architecture  to  be 
found  anywhere  in  Europe.  The  court,  which  is  one 
hundred  and  sixty  -  nine  feet  square,  is  surrounded 
by  an  arcade  of  small,  pointed  arches  supported  by 
coupled  columns  of  white  marble,  with  a  group  of  four 
at  each  angle.  There  are  twenty-five  arches  in  each 
of  the  four  sides,  two  hundred  and  sixteen  richly 
sculptured  pairs  of  columns  in  all,  of  which  the  capi- 
tals are  of  different  patterns  and  the  shafts  elaborately 
adorned  with  an  infinite  variety  of  designs  in  mosaic 
and  delicate  carvings. 

The  word  "  cloisters  "  suggests  to  the  mind  familiar 
only  with  the  monasteries  of  northern  Europe  the 
idea  of  a  severe  and  sad  retreat  of  ascetic  beings  who 
sought  retirement  from,  and  shunned  all  contact  with, 
the  world  at  large.  A  silent,  gloomy  place,  a  place  of 
cells  and  shadows,  where  ghostly  fathers  passed  years 
in  solitude  or  in  the  joyless  companionship  of  those, 
and  only  those,  whose  presence  nerved  them  to  banish 
the  charm  and  sweetness  of  life  and  human  society. 
The  cloisters  of  Monreale  impart  no  such  impression 
to  the  mind.  There  all  was  light  and  joyous  color, 
fair  outlines,  graceful  ornament.  Imagine  a  charming 
garden  planted  with  shrubs  and  flowering  vines  laid 
out  in  parterres  of  exquisite  greenery,  where,  in  the 
shade  of  orange  and  citron  trees,  fountains  played  to 
cool  the  perfumed  air.  Imagine  an  acre  of  Eden — an 
Eveless  Eden,  it  is  true,  but  nevertheless  a  paradise, 
delicious,  entrancing — such  were  the  cloisters  of  Mon- 
reale !  Or,  to  speak  more  correctly,  such  a  place  was 
the  court -yard  of  the  Benedictine  monastery  in  the 


58  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

good  old  days  when  monasteries  were  the  dwelling- 
places  of  the  Muses,  when  all  that  was  best  in  all 
the  arts  was  employed  in  the  embellishment  of  the 
palaces  of  luxurious  churchmen. 

Wonderful  as  is  Monreale,  with  all  its  treasures  of 
architecture,  to  the  completion  of  which  all  the  arts 
have  been  laid  under  contribution,  it  is  still  more  won- 
derful to  remember  that  this  superb  creation  of  genius 
is  to  be  discovered  in  Sicily.  The  world  has  paid  lit- 
tle attention  to  the  history  of  the  Normans,  who  re- 
deemed that  island  from  the  rule  of  the  Moslems,  or 
to  the  chronicles  of  a  dynasty  of  kings,  who  in  their 
day  were  the  most  powerful  and  richest,  as  they  were 
the  most  enlightened,  of  sovereigns.  Verily  the  history 
of  Sicily  is  a  sealed  book,  of  which  but  a  few  scholars 
have  guessed  the  contents.  Forgetful  of  all  this  mar- 
vellous story,  having  paid  little  heed  to  the  tale  of 
Roger  and  his  descendants,  the  traveller  who  sees  for 
the  first  time  the  glories  of  Santa  Maria  Nuova,  or  be- 
holds the  still  exquisite  remains  of  the  cloisters  of  St. 
Benedict,  stands  entranced,  silently  wondering  at  what, 
to  his  unprepared  mind,  seems  to  be  unreal,  impossi- 
ble, a  creation  of  enchantment  wrought  in  an  age  of 
poetry  and  fable,  rather  than  the  work  of  patient, 
toiling  men. 


VII 

IL  DUOMO  DI   PALERMO 

Cathedral  of  Santa  Maria  Assunta  —  "Walter  of  the  Mill" 
— Tombs  of  Norman  Kings — King  Roger  II.  —  Emperor 
Henry  VI. — Constance,  "The  Last  of  the  D'  Hautevilles" 
— Emperor  Frederick  II.,  "  The  Wonder  of  the  World." 

On  II  Corso  Vittorio  Emanuele,  near  Porta  Nuova, 
is  La  Piazza  del  Duomo,  to  which  II  Duomo  di  Paler- 
mo presents  its  right  flank.  This  church  of  Santa 
Maria  Assunta  exhibits  a  curious  mixture  of  architect- 
ural incongruities.  The  parts  of  the  original  Sara- 
cenic-Norman building  which  still  remain  are  shapely, 
graceful,  and  charming  in  plan  and  detail;  the  mod- 
ern additions  and  restorations  are,  in  truth,  abomin- 
able excrescences. 

The  cathedral,  originally  a  Christian  basilica,  is  said 
to  have  been  erected  in  592  A.D.,  on  the  foundations 
of  an  older  pagan  temple.  The  Arabs  converted  the 
basilica  into  a  mosque.  Gualterio  Offamilio  (Walter 
of  the  Mill),  an  Englishman  whom  William  the  Good 
created  Archbishop  of  Palermo,  having  reconstructed 
and  enlarged  the  edifice,  reconsecrated  it,  in  the  year 
1 185  A.D.,  to  the  service  of  the  Holy  Virgin.  In  the 
seventeenth  century  a  Neapolitan  architect,  display- 
ing his  flagrant  bad  taste,  deformed  the  beautiful 
building  by  surmounting  it  with  what  he  was  pleased 


60  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

to  call  an  Italian  cupola.  The  exterior  of  II  Duomo, 
when  seen  from  a  point  of  view  from  which  all  sight 
of  the  Neapolitan  restorations  and  additions  is  cut 
off  by  other  buildings,  presents  a  harmonious  com- 
bination of  Arabic  and  Gothic  architecture. 

The  lateral  fagades  which  flank  the  piazza  are  pict- 
uresque and  interesting,  while  the  front  of  the  edifice, 
abutting  on  a  narrow  street,  over  which  are  thrown 
two  arches  to  connect  the  sanctuary  with  the  archi- 
episcopal  palace,  is  plain  and  severe  in  design  and 
ornamentation.  The  porches  are  enriched  with  three 
beautiful  Gothic  portals  of  the  early  fifteenth  century. 
The  south  door  was  inserted  at  about  the  same  time, 
and  the  highly  ornamented  portico,  which  was  added 
about  1450  A. D.,  consists  of  pillars,  pointed  arches,  and 
Greek  details ;  one  of  the  pillars  probably  belonged 
to  a  mosque,  as  it  bears  an  inscription  taken  from  Al- 
Koran.  This  south  porch,  which  gives  on  the  piazza, 
is  the  most  highly  ornamented  part  of  the  exterior  of 
the  cathedral,  and  on  an  old  stone  beneath  its  arches 
there  is  inscribed  in  large  letters  the  proud  device, 

"  Prima  Secies  Corona  Regis  et  Regni  Caput," 

the  title  claimed  by  Palermo,  in  virtue  of  the  fact 
that  within  its  walls  and  in  its  cathedral,  the  Sicilian 
kings  crowned  themselves,  or,  as  they  always  main- 
tained, "  received  their  crowns  from  Christ,  whose  leg- 
ates they  were." 

The  interior  of  the  cathedral  has  been  modernized 
throughout ;  that  is  to  say,  the  walls  and  roof  have 
been  repaired,  in  many  places  entirely  reconstructed ; 
and  except  that  the  triple  nave  of  the  basilica  and  the 
choir  are  rendered  impressive  by  their  vastness  and 


IL  DUOMO  DI   PALERMO  6l 

correct  proportions,  there  is  little  to  charm  the  be- 
holder, who  vainly  tries  to  imagine  the  grandeur  of 
the  edifice  as  it  appeared  in  the  old  days  of  Norman 
magnificence. 

The  most  remarkable  objects  of  interest,  the  treas- 
ures of  the  cathedral,  are  the  Tombs  of  the  Kings. 
In  the  first  two  chapels  at  the  right  of  the  west  door, 
there  are  four  sarcophagi  of  porphyry  similar  in  de- 
sign, on  bases  of  gray  marble  with  raised  canopies, 
two  of  which  are  of  porphyry  and  two  of  white  mar- 
ble enriched  with  gilding  and  mosaics.  These  tombs 
contain  the  remains  of  Roger  II.  (second  Duke  of 
Apulia  and  first  King  of  Sicily),  who  died  in  Palermo 
1 1 54  A.D. ;  of  his  daughter,  the  Empress  Constance, 
who  died  in  Palermo,  1 198  A.D. ;  of  the  Emperor  Henry 
VI.,  Roger's  son-in-law ;  and  of  Henry's  son,  the  Em- 
peror Frederick  II.,  who  died  in  Apulia,  1250  A.D. 

Beyond  all  peradventure,  two  of  the  sarcophagi 
contain  the  ashes  of  two  of  the  most  remarkable  men 
who  ever  lived  in  any  land  or  in  any  age :  King 
Roger  II.,  first  King  of  Sicily,  and  his  grandson, 
Frederick  II.,  Emperor  of  Germany,  King  of  Italy, 
Sicily,  Sardinia,  Apulia,  Burgundy,  and  Jerusalem — 
"  Emperor  of  the  World." 

Roger  when  but  a  lad  gave  promise  of  the  greatness 
which  he  afterwards  more  than  fulfilled.  When  he 
became  king  he  governed  vigorously,  cleared  the  high- 
ways of  robbers,  suppressed  all  attempts  at  rebellion, 
and  established  himself  firmly  in  power.  While  still 
young  he  married  Elvira,  the  daughter  of  Alfonzo, 
King  of  Castile.  Shortly  after  his  marriage  he  went 
to  the  assistance  of  his  cousin,  the  Duke  of  Calabria, 
and  assisted  him  in  quelling  a  rebellion  in  one  of  his 


62  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

provinces.  In  payment  for  the  services  rendered  to 
him  by  Roger,  the  Duke  of  Calabria  resigned  all  pre- 
tensions to  any  territory  or  authority  in  Sicily.  When 
his  cousin  died  leaving  no  direct  heirs,  Roger  promptly 
claimed  succession  to  his  government.  When  Hono- 
rius  II.  declared  that  it  was  the  right  of  the  Holy  See 
to  decide  who  should  inherit  the  dukedom,  Roger  op- 
posed the  pretensions  of  the  Holy  Father,  whereupon 
the  Pope  excommunicated  him  and  summoned  the 
Barons  of  Apulia  and  Calabria  to  defend  the  rights  of 
the  successor  of  St.  Peter.  Nothing  daunted,  Roger 
collected  a  powerful  army,  composed  of  Saracens  and 
Normans,  and,  presenting  himself  in  southern  Italy, 
offered  battle  to  his  enemies,  who,  however,  declined 
to  meet  him  in  the  field.  Unable  to  hold  their  army 
together,  the  Barons  again  did  homage  to  the  Count, 
and  the  Pope  was  obliged  to  acquiesce,  when  Roger 
assumed  the  title  of  King  of  Sicily,  and  united  in  his 
person  the  sovereignty  of  Apulia,  Calabria,  and  Sicily. 
Roger  determined  that  he  should  be  crowned  at 
Palermo.  Accordingly,  on  Christmas  Day,  1130  A.D., 
the  coronation  of  the  first  Norman  King  of  Sicily 
took  place  in  the  cathedral,  which  had  been  but  lately 
transformed  from  a  mosque  into  a  Christian  church. 
Into  the  sacred  edifice  the  King,  armed  cap-a-pie,  rode 
on  his  war-charger,  preceded  by  the  Barons  of  Sici- 
ly, Apulia,  and  Calabria,  arrayed  in  steel  armor  en- 
riched with  gold  and  silver.  At  the  door  of  the 
cathedral  Roger  was  met  by  nine  archbishops,  seven- 
teen bishops,  five  abbots,  and  an  innumerable  crowd 
of  priests.  The  haughty  Norman  proudly  refused  to 
allow  the  Papal  legate  to  place  the  crown  on  his  head, 
nor  would  he  permit  the  Archbishop  of  Palermo  (as 


IL  DUOMO  DI   PALERMO  63 

representative  of  the  Pope)  to  stand  on  the  highest 
step  of  the  altar  during  the  ceremonies,  but  compelled 
him  to  take  his  place  one  step  below  His  Majesty. 
Roger,  however,  suffered  the  archbishop  to  anoint 
him,  but,  that  done,  the  King,  turning  to  the  Prince 
of  Capua,  his  first  vassal,  took  the  crown  from  him 
and  placed  it  on  his  own  head.* 

It  is  interesting  to  note  that  the  ceremonials  of  the 
coronation,  as  well  as  the  costumes  of  the  participants, 
were  copied  from  the  court  of  Byzantium,  "  which 
was  at  that  time  considered  the  model  of  splendor 
and  refinement,  and  to  which  the  eyes  of  the  Greek- 
Christian  population  of  Sicily  were  at  all  times  di- 
rected." Greek  was  the  polite  language  of  the  day, 
but  Roger  and  his  Court  spoke  Norman-French,  and 
made  it  fashionable. 

The  year  following  Roger's  coronation  the  nobles 
of  Apulia,  once  more  taking  up  arms  against  their 
newly  crowned  king,  appealed  to  Pope  Innocent  II., 
who  put  himself  at  the  head  of  his  troops  and  marched 
into  Calabria.  Roger  captured  the  entire  Papal  army, 
and  a  Pope  once  more  became  the  prisoner  of  a 
D'Hauteville. 

Roger  followed  the  example  of  his  ancestors  in  the 
respect  he  showed  His  Holiness,  but  nevertheless 
wrung  from  Innocent  II.  a  final  acknowledgment  of 
all  his  claims  and  the  confirmation  of  his  royal  title ; 

*  In  after-times,  when  the  Norman  kings  were  dead,  the  Norman 
dynasty  extinct,  certain  chroniclers,  better  churchmen  than  historians, 
rewrote  the  story  of  Roger's  coronation  in  order  to  create  an  entirely 
erroneous  impression  in  the  public  mind  regarding  the  claim  of  the 
Papacy  to  priority  of  right  in  matters  pertaining  to  the  government  of 
Sicily. 


64  PICTURESQUE   SICILY 

and  the  Apulian  Barons  never  revolted  again.  By  this 
stroke  Roger  gained  the  Principality  of  Capua  and  the 
Duchy  of  Naples.  He  returned  to  Sicily,  and  ad- 
dressed himself  with  rare  wisdom  and  great  diligence 
to  the  administration  of  the  affairs  of  his  kingdom. 
Taking,  it  is  said,  as  his  model  the  laws  framed  by 
William  the  Conqueror,  Roger  gave  to  Sicily  a  sys- 
tem of  jurisprudence  which,  even  to-day,  commands 
the  admiration  of  statesmen,  who  marvel  at  the  learn- 
ing and  wisdom  displayed  in  its  compilation. 

Roger  was  thrice  married.  His  third  wife,  Beatrice, 
was  the  mother  of  Constance.  His  second  wife,  Al- 
beria,  had  borne  him  five  children,  of  whom  only  Will- 
iam survived.  In  1154,  in  his  fifty-ninth  year,  the 
first  King  of  Sicily  died.  "  Of  him  it  has  justly  been 
said  that  he  was  one  of  the  wisest,  the  most  renowned, 
the  most  wealthy,  the  most  fortunate  princes  of  his 
time,  an  enlightened  monarch  who,  by  his  own  la- 
bor and  by  his  own  free  will,  presented  his  country 
with  a  code  and  constitution.  Sicily  was  never  so 
prosperous  or  glorious  as  under  his  reign.  A  tranquil 
realm  and  a  full  treasury  were  the  legacies  he  be- 
queathed to  his  successor." 

Then  came  "William  the  Bad"  and  "William  the 
Good,"  good  apparently  by  contrast  chiefly;  and  Wal- 
ter of  the  Mill,  virtual  regent  and  champion  of  Con- 
stance against  Tancred,  the  illegitimate  son  of  Roger, 
who  was  crowned  at  Palermo  in  1189.  Constance  had 
married  Henry  VI.,  Emperor  of  Germany,  who  waged 
war  on  Tancred  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  the 
crown  of  Sicily  in  the  right  of  his  wife's  title.  While 
he  was  preparing  to  defend  his  title  Tancred  died  and 
Henry  took  possession  of  the  kingdom  of  Sicily. 


PALERMO   CATHEDRAL 


IL  DUOMO   DI   PALERMO  65 

Henry  VI.,  son  of  Frederick  Barbarossa,  was  German 
by  birth,  German  in  mind  and  temperament,  and  he 
gave  little  care  to  his  Sicilian  possessions  except  to 
repress  promptly  all  opposition  to  his  rule.  When  he 
died  his  infant  son  Frederick  was  left  to  the  care  of 
the  Empress  Constance,  who  lived  but  a  few  years 
to  guard  the  interests  of  her  son ;  dying,  she  left  him 
to  the  guardianship  of  Pope  Innocent  III. 

Constance,  the  daughter  of  Roger  and  mother  of 
Frederick  (third  in  descent  from  the  Norman  squire 
Tancred  d'Hauteville),  transmitted  to  the  princes  of 
the  race  of  Hohenstaufen  the  vigor  of  her  Norman 
ancestry  unweakened.  To  have  been  the  daughter 
of  such  a  king  as  Roger,  the  mother  of  such  an  em- 
peror as  Frederick,  has  rendered  her  name  famous  for 
all  time. 

11  The  times  were  troublous,  and  there  were  many 
claimants  for  the  kingdom  and  provinces  to  which 
Frederick  was  legitimate  heir;  but  he  early  displayed 
the  abilities  that  proclaimed  his  greatness,  and  in  time 
assumed  the  management  of  his  own  affairs,  faced 
fate  and  fortune  with  a  daring  and  a  magnificent  dis- 
play of  power  that  entitled  him  to  be  called,  while 
still  a  beardless  youth,  '  The  Wonder  of  the  World.' 
By  that  title  Matthew  Paris,  the  English  chronicler, 
more  than  once  speaks  of  the  emperor  •  who  drew 
on  him  the  eyes  of  all  men  during  the  greater  part  of 
the  former  half  of  the  thirteenth  century,  and  whose 
name  has  ever  since  lived  in  history  as  that  of  the 
most  wonderful  man  in  a  wonderful  age.' " 

Frederick  was  of  Sicilian  birth  and  education,  a 
man  of  noble  qualities  of  mind,  learned  in  all  the 
wisdom  of  Mohammedans  and  Christians  of  his  time. 
5 


66  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

At  his  court  in  Palermo  was  given  the  first  impulse 
to  Italian  literature.  From  his  reign  Dante  dates  the 
rise  of  Italian  poetry. 

"  Warrior,  statesman,  law  -  giver,  scholar,  there  was 
nothing  in  the  compass  of  the  political  or  intellectual 
world  of  his  age  which  he  failed  to  grasp.  In  an  age 
of  change,  when  in  every  corner  of  Europe  and  civil- 
ized Asia  old  kingdoms,  nations,  and  systems  were 
falling  and  new  ones  rising,  Frederick  was  emphati- 
cally the  man  of  change,  the  author  of  things  new  and 
unheard  of — he  was  indeed  '  stupor  mundi  et  immuta- 
tor  mirabilis!  "  * 

*  E.  A.  Freeman.     Essay  on  Frederick  II. 


vrn 

TWO    HISTORIC  CHURCHES 

San  Giovanni  degli  Eremiti — La  Chiesa  dei  Vespri — Campo  di 
Santo  Spirito — The  War  of  the  Sicilian  Vespers  in  Panto- 
mime— Giovanni  di  Procida. 

NEAR  the  Royal  Palace  are  the  ruins  of  the  chapel 
and  cloisters  of  San  Giovanni  degli  Eremiti.  In  a 
diploma  bearing  the  date  of  1 148,  Roger  caused  it  to 
be  recorded :  "  We  grant  to  that  monastery  (Sancti 
Johannis),  for  the  love  of  God,  and  the  salvation  of  our 
mother  and  our  father  the  great  Count  Roger  I. ;  of 
the  most  serene  Duke  Robert  Guiscard,  our  uncle,  of 
most  blessed  memory  ;  and  also  for  the  welfare  of  the 
soul  of  our  consort,  the  Queen  Elvira,  of  most  blessed 
remembrance ;  and  for  the  forgiveness  of  the  sins  of 
our  children  and  all  our  relations  alive  or  dead ;  and 
for  the  particular  devotion  which  we  bear  to  that 
monastery,  which  is  situated  under  our  own  eyes  and 
near  to  our  own  palace,  which  was  built  at  our  own 
expense,  all  those  contiguous  buildings  which  we 
have  caused  to  be  erected  for  this  purpose." 

It  is  possible  that  in  constructing  this  chapel  King 
Roger  retained  parts  of  an  old  mosque,  for  the  pres- 
ent building  has  five  round  cupolas  in  form  exactly 
like  those  which  are  to  be  seen  in  all  Mohammedan 
countries.     The  shape  of  the  church   is  that  of  an 


68  PICTURESQUE  SICILY 

Egyptian  cross,  or  letter  T,  and  it  has  three  apses  and 
three  naves  separated  by  marble  columns;  it  is,  how- 
ever, in  a  sad  condition  of  ruin,  as  are  the  cloisters 
adjoining  it,  and  to-day  vines  and  flowers  grow  lux- 
uriantly where  once  were  marble  pavements  ;  roses, 
oranges,  and  tropical  vegetation  occupy  the  court- 
yard where  once  upon  a  time  grave  monks  invited 
their  souls  and  breathed  the  air  cooled  by  the  wa- 
ter of  living  fountains.  The  church  is  empty,  the 
cloisters  deserted  ;  nevertheless,  San  Giovanni  degli 
Eremiti  is  one  of  the  most  picturesque  and  precious 
relics  of  the  art  of  olden  times. 

We  were  met  at  the  gate  by  the  sole  guardian  of 
the  place,  a  lively  and  entertaining  gentleman,  who  wel- 
comed us  as  if  we  were  his  oldest  and  dearest  friends. 
He  informed  us,  in  pantomime,  aided  by  perhaps  a 
score  of  English  words,  that,  although  he  spoke  no 
language  but  his  own,  he  possessed  the  art  of  making 
the  gentlemen  of  all  nations,  and  especially  the  ladies 
(with  a  sweeping  bow  to  la  signora)  to  understand 
everything.  And,  indeed,  he  succeeded  in  elucidating 
the  subject  of  his  morning's  lecture  in  a  most  ingen- 
ious and  amusing  manner. 

He  spoke  in  Italian,  but  so  distinctly,  so  loudly  did 
he  vociferate  every  word,  we  had  little  difficulty  in 
gathering  the  drift  and  purport  of  his  discourse. 
From  time  to  time  he  "  fired"  at  us  (no  feebler  term 
will  convey  the  idea)  the  very  few  words  of  English 
he  knew  how  to  use,  and  always  illuminated  his  Ital- 
ian phrases  and  sentences  with  artistic  and  elaborate 
pantomime.  First,  he  led  us  to  one  side  of  the 
cloisters,  and  saying  "  monaci,"  which  he  translated 
"  monco,"  he  put  his  head  to  sleep  on  his  right  hand; 


TWO   HISTORIC    CHURCHES  69 

awakening,  he  fed  himself,  chewing  ravenously  entirely 
imaginary  food  ;  and  we  understood  perfectly  that 
we  were  in  what  had  anciently  been  the  dormitories 
and  refectories  of  the  monks.  He  then  assumed  a 
solemn,  grave,  and  woe -begone  expression,  such  as 
Friar  Tuck,  or  the  Friar  in  "Reynard  the  Fox  "  might 
have  assumed  when  wishing  to  seem  devout ;  gyrated 
his  forefinger  around  the  crown  of  his  head,  as  if  he 
were  scalping  himself  with  an  invisible  knife,  rolled 
his  eyes,  crossed  his  arms  upon  his  breast,  and,  moving 
slowly,  with  exaggerated  show  of  dignity,  crossed  the 
court-yard  as  if  leading  a  procession,  and  so  gained 
the  side-door  of  the  chapel.  There  he  dipped  his  fin- 
ger into  an  imaginary  basin  and  crossed  himself  be- 
fore entering  the  building,  which  he  called  "  La  Chie- 
sa,"and  wherein  he  made  genuflexions  before  the  altar 
towards  the  east.  All  this  needed  but  little  explana- 
tion. We  who  had  followed  him  (scarcely  able  to 
repress  our  laughter)  knew  the  purport  of  the  show ; 
how  the  tonsured  monks  were  wont  to  go  in  solemn 
procession  from  their  cells  to  hold  service  in  the  Chris- 
tian chapel. 

As  we  stood  by  the  door  he  returned  to  the  court 
and  informed  us  that,  although  he  was  not  "  Inglese," 
he  had  "  make  to  understand."  Then,  ejaculating  "  Sar- 
aceni,"  he  rearranged  his  expression  and  attitudes  and 
gave  us  to  understand  that  he  was  "  Coperto  di  tur- 
bante" — covered  with  a  turban,  from  which  we  in- 
ferred he  was  about  to  perform  a  Moorish  comedy  for 
our  delectation.  This  he  proceeded  to  do  as  follows: 
Taking  off  an  invisible  pair  of  slippers,  he  divested 
himself  of  an  imaginary  bournous  and  other  vestments, 
and  feigned  to  perform  ablutions  in  a  supposititious 


JO  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

tank;  then  (whether  dripping  or  dowlassed  we  could 
not  determine)  he  again  entered  the  sanctuary,  which 
he  informed  us  was  a  "  moschea."  Turning  to  the 
east,  he  pronounced  the  word  "  Mecca,"  placed  his 
thumbs  in  his  ears,  and,  extending  his  fingers  fan-fash- 
ion, waved  them  as  he  made  obeisance  towards  the 
Orient. 

Again  we  readily  understood  his  meaning  and  knew 
that  where  Christian  monks  had  worshipped  Moham- 
medans had  also  come  to  pray.  We  also  discovered 
that  whereas  the  monks  were  solemn-looking,  over-sad, 
and  timorous  creatures,  who  dared  not  so  much  as  to 
raise  their  eyes  to  heaven,  the  followers  of  the  Prophet 
were  fierce,  fanatical,  truculent,  and  haughty  person- 
ages, who  bore  themselves  more  like  warriors  than 
studious  clerks  and  hollow-eyed  ascetics. 

Returning  again  to  us,  the  versatile  M  custode  "  re- 
peated his  formula: 

"  Io  faccio  capire  ?" 

To  which  we  made  reply,  as  in  duty  bound : 

"  Perfettamente,  signore !" 

Our  custode  then,  to  demonstrate  how  the  enlarged 
Christian  chapel,  as  we  saw  it,  had  been  cleared  of 
the  walls  of  the  moschea,  paced  off  the  dimensions 
of  an  inner  parallelogram,  ejaculating  as  he  moved, 
"spazio";  when  he  stopped  for  an  instant,  "  colonna 
o  pilastro";  and  when,  alternately  walking  and  stop- 
ping, he  had  completed  the  circuit  of  the  chapel,  we 
needed  no  plan  to  enable  us  to  elucidate  his  meaning 
— that  the  inner  enclosure  had  consisted  of  alternate 
spaces  and  columns  which  upheld  the  roof  of  the  an- 
cient building. 

There  is  little  to  study  or  to  describe  in  the  ruins  of 


TWO    HISTORIC    CHURCHES  7 1 

the  interior  of  San  Giovanni.  They  are  mere  reminis- 
cences of  the  Moor  and  the  Norman,  of  whose  handi- 
work few  vestiges  remain  except  bare  walls,  Oriental 
cupolas,  broken  arches,  and  the  shattered  columns  of 
the  cloistered  courtyard.  But  the  ruined  church  and 
all  its  surroundings  are  wonderfully  picturesque,  savor- 
ing of  poetry  and  romance.  Therefore  we  lingered 
long  amid  the  mass  of  greenery  and  flowers,  wander- 
ing up  and  down  the  silent,  moss-grown  walks.  When 
our  guide  left  us  to  gather  flowers  for  "  la  signora," 
the  echoes  of  our  own  hushed  and  solemn  voices  came 
back  to  us  from  empty  corridors  and  ruined  halls  like 
the  murmur  of  ghostly  fathers  at  prayer. 

As  we  crossed  the  court -yard  to  leave  the  place, 
the  custode  detained  us  while  he  told  us  that  near 
San  Giovanni  degli  Eremiti  was  II  Campo  di  Santo 
Spirito,  where  was  La  Chiesa  dei  Vespri  Siciliani. 

To  convey  an  adequate  idea  of  his  meaning,  the  cus- 
tode resorted  once  more  to  pantomime.  He  pretended 
to  ring  the  vesper-bell,  fancied  he  saw  crowds  of  peo- 
ple running  towards  him  from  all  quarters,  then,  as  if 
bewitched,  or  seized  with  homicidal  mania,  he  fired 
guns,  aiming  them  in  all  directions,  stabbed  and  was 
stabbed,  cut  throats  and  had  his  throat  cut  in  turn, 
closed  his  eyes  to  show  that  he,  presumably  a  French- 
man, was  asleep  when  seized  and  clubbed  to  death. 
He  rang  the  supposititious  bell  again  frantically,  un- 
til we  could  fancy  we  heard  its  alarum  booming 
through  the  outraged  air,  and  fell  to  his  horrid  work 
once  more,  shouting: 

"  Morte,  morte !  Detto  di  Franchy  !"  which  we  un- 
derstood to  mean  "  Death  to  the  French." 

In  short,  he  enacted  all  the  various  forms  of  massa- 


72  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

ere  his  ingenuity  could  invent,  until  he  had  figurative- 
ly strewn  the  precincts  of  San  Giovanni  with  "  molti 
corpi  morti,  molti  cadaveri,"  and  made  an  end  only 
when  he  was  able  to  inform  us  that  "  All  the  French 
had  been  massacred !" 

We  had  become  accustomed  to  exhibitions  of  Sicil- 
ian dumb-show,  but  in  the  art  of  "speaking  by  gest- 
ures" the  custode  of  the  ruins  of  San  Giovanni  degli 
Eremiti  outdid  any  and  all  performers  we  had  ever 
before  wondered  at. 

"  Pugnat,  ludit,  amat,  bacchatur,  vertitur,  astat, 
Illustrat  verum,  cuncta  decore,  replet  ; 
Tot  linguae,  tot  membra  viro ;  mirabilis  ars  est 
Qua  fecit  articulos,  ore  silent  e  loqui." 

We  applauded  his  latest  and  most  artistic  effort, 
and  while  bidding  him  good-bye  assured  him  he  had 
"  make  to  understand." 

About  half  a  mile  south  of  the  Porta  Santa  Agatha, 
within  sight  of  the  Royal  Palace  and  San  Giovanni 
degli  Eremiti,  is  an  old  cemetery,  II  Campo  di  Santo 
Spirito,  and  within  its  walls  are  the  remains  of  a  Cis- 
tercian monastery,  founded  by  Walter  of  the  Mill  in 
1 173.  Grim,  unholy  legends  haunt  about  the  place. 
When  the  bell  of  this  old  church  was  tolled  on  the 
evening  of  Easter  Tuesday,  1282  A.D.,  there  began 
that  massacre  of  the  French  known  as  the  Sicilian 
Vespers. 

The  miserable  Sicilians  had  suffered  untold  cruel- 
ties at  the  hands  of  the  French  during  the  spring  of 
1282  A.D.,  and  there  seemed  to  be  no  relief  at  hand. 
The  island  was  held  in  subjection  by  the  garrisons  of 
forty-two  royal  castles  and  other   military  posts,  es- 


■r *  H       ""v*  . 


SICILIAN   (SARACEN   TYPE) 


TWO   HISTORIC   CHURCHES  73 

tablished  in  all  the  cities.  All  the  great  estates  were 
held  by  French  feudal  lords,  who  treated  the  people 
as  slaves.  The  foot  of  the  stranger  was  on  the  neck 
of  the  people.  Tax-gatherers  exacted  the  uttermost 
farthing,  and  seized  lands,  houses,  and  crops  to  satisfy 
unpaid  claims.  Palermo,  the  ancient  capital  of  the 
kingdom,  most  hated,  most  oppressed  by  its  foreign 
governors,  was  daily  the  scene  of  outrages,  arrests,  and 
banishments.  Herbert  of  Orleans,  the  viceroy  of  King 
Charles  of  Anjou,  had  his  palace  in  Palermo,  and  was 
guarded  night  and  day  by  a  strong  body  of  soldiery, 
who  treated  even  the  native  nobility — the  few  that 
were  left — with  insolence.  There  seemed  to  be  no 
hope  of  deliverance  for  a  down-trodden  and  desperate 
people  living  in  dread  of  outrages,  the  horror  of  which 
they  dared  not  contemplate,  and  against  the  perpetra- 
tion of  which  they  were  unable  to  protect  themselves. 

At  a  distance  of  half  a  mile  from  the  southern  wall 
of  Palermo,  where  the  plain  slopes  gently  towards  the 
Oreto,  there  was  a  church  consecrated  to  the  Holy 
Spirit.  It  stood  in  the  midst  of  fields  and  gardens, 
and  between  it  and  the  city  there  was  a  grand  espla- 
nade, which  the  citizens  crossed  and  recrossed  on  their 
way  to  and  from  the  sanctuary. 

Easter  Sunday,  1282  A.D.,  was  an  occasion  for 
mourning  rather  than  for  celebrating  the  resurrection 
of  the  Saviour  of  the  world.  On  Easter  Tuesday  this 
open  space  was  crowded  with  people  on  their  way  to 
church  or  amusing  themselves  in  the  shade  of  the 
trees,  when  the  followers  of  the  French  governor  sud- 
denly appeared  among  them  and  caused  great  alarm 
by  their  unusually  bold  and  truculent  behavior.  Near 
by  a  young  woman  of  rare  beauty  and  of  modest  mien 


74  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

was  walking  with  her  sweetheart.  A  French  soldier 
made  an  insulting  remark  to  her,  which  was  resented 
by  her  escort.  The  captain  of  the  guard  cried  out : 
"The  ribald  chatterers  are  armed,  seeing  that  they  dare 
to  reply  to  the  remark  of  a  soldier,"  and,  under  the 
pretence  of  looking  for  a  dagger,  seized  the  young 
woman  and  attempted  to  put  his  hand  in  her  bosom. 
The  terrified  girl  fell  fainting  into  the  arms  of  her  be- 
trothed, who,  frenzied  with  rage,  shouted  :  "  Oh,  mu- 
oiamo,  muoiamo,  una  volta,  questi  francesi!"  (Let 
us  kill,  let  us  kill  these  French !),  and  he  struck  down 
the  aggressor.  The  almost  unarmed  crowd  rushed  with 
desperate  ferocity  upon  their  well-armed  opponents. 
If  the  struggle  was  brief,  it  was  bloody  and  decisive. 
Great  was  the  slaughter  of  the  Sicilians,  but  greater 
still  was  the  slaughter  of  the  French.  An  historian 
laconically  states:  "  There  were  two  hundred  French- 
men, and  of  them  two  hundred  were  killed." 

Rushing  to  the  bell -tower,  the  infuriated  crowd 
sounded  the  tocsin;  others  of  the  mob  spread  them- 
selves throughout  the  city,  crying,  M  Morte  ai  fran- 
cesi !"  and  all  the  French  upon  whom  hands  were 
laid  were  promptly  despatched  by  the  daggers  of  the 
blood-thirsty  Palermitans.  All  that  day  and  all  that 
night  the  massacre  continued  ;  palaces  were  stormed, 
guard-houses  broken  into  ;  every  corner  of  the  city 
was  searched,  and  everywhere,  to  the  cry  "  Morte 
ai  francesi !"  the  slaughter  went  on.  Nor  did  the 
rage  of  the  people  abate  until  two  thousand  French, 
were  destroyed.  Not  only  did  the  mob  kill  the 
French  residents  of  the  city,  but  it  slew  all  Sicilians, 
men  and  women,  who  had  in  any  way  connected  them- 
selves with  the  French  people.     When  a  suspect  fell 


TWO   HISTORIC    CHURCHES  75 

into  the  hands  of  the  mob  and  protested  that  he  was 
not  French,  but  in  very  truth  a  good  Sicilian,  he  was 
commanded,  with  a  sword  at  his  throat,  to  pronounce 
the  word  "  Ciciri,"  and  according  as  he  sounded  the 
"  c  "  and  put  the  accent  on  one  or  other  of  the  sylla- 
bles he  was  declared  to  be,  or  not  to  be,  French,  and 
killed  or  spared.  Woe  to  the  man  or  woman,  old  or 
young,  or  child,  who  failed  to  pronounce  correctly  this 
Parlermitan  shibboleth. 

From  Palermo  a  sudden  outburst  of  popular  fury 
was  propagated  and  spread  over  Sicily  and  into  every 
corner  of  it,  and  the  massacre  continued  for  days,  un- 
til hardly  a  person  of  French  birth  or  extraction  was 
left  alive  in  the  whole  island.  The  people  everywhere 
flew  to  arms.  "Death  to  the  French!"  was  every- 
where the  watchword,  and  by  their  own  unaided  ex- 
ertions, under  the  leadership  of  Giovanni  di  Procida, 
the  islanders  freed  themselves  at  last  from  the  hateful 
tyranny  of  the  French.  It  is  true  that  the  War  of  the 
Vespers  continued  for  years,  but  the  dominion  of  the 
French  in  Sicily  had  passed  away  forever. 


IX 

SARACENIC   QUARTERS  OF  PALERMO 

Rione  Castellamare — Rione  Palazzo  Reale  —  The  Slums  of 
Palermo  —  "Rag  Fair"  —  Albergheria  —  A  Victim  of  the 
Triple  Alliance. 

If  II  Corso  and  La  Via  Macqueda  recall  the  streets 
in  certain  cities  in  southern  Spain,  there  are  thorough- 
fares in  Palermo  that  remind  observant  travellers  of 
streets  in  Tangier,  Algiers,  and  other  north  African 
cities.  There  are  to-day  districts  in  Palermo  that  ap- 
propriately may  be  called  the  Saracen  quarters  of  the 
town.  Such  are  La  Via  Monteleone  and  its  neigh- 
borhood, in  the  heart  of  the  northeastern  section,  the 
Rione  Castellamare  ;  and  La  Via  Albergheria  and  La 
Via  Bosco,  which  intersect  the  Rione  Palazzo  Reale  in 
the  southwestern  quarter  of  the  city.  These  streets, 
so  un- European,  so  Oriental  in  general  appearance 
and  in  detail,  are  the  resort  of  a  teeming  population 
of  paupers  who  live  in  quaint,  old,  dilapidated  dwell- 
ings, packed  away,  to  use  an  illustration  appropriate 
to  things  Sicilian,  "  like  sardines  in  boxes."  The  life 
of  these  people  is  mostly  out-of-doors,  or  at  the 
doors  of  their  dark,  unfurnished,  cave  -  like  houses, 
and,  except  during  the  wettest  weather,  untold  multi- 
tudes swarm  in  the  lanes  and  by-ways  night  and  day 
and  throng  the  narrow  streets. 


SARACENIC   QUARTERS    OF   PALERMO  JJ 

We  spent  much  time,  not  in  the  idle  occupation 
known  as  "  slumming,"  but  in  appeasing  a  real  desire 
to  know  something  of  the  condition  of  life  of  the 
Sicilian  poor.  We  made  many  expeditions  through 
the  stews  and  purlieus  of  Palermo  by  night  and  by 
day.  In  this  way  we  were  able  to  form  our  opinions 
by  what  we  ourselves  saw,  and  we  venture  to  state 
that,  so  far  as  the  municipal  authorities  are  concerned, 
there  is  little  to  desire  in  the  matter  of  cleaning  the 
back  streets  and  by-lanes  of  those  districts  of  the  city 
in  which  multitudes  of  human  beings  are  crowded  to- 
gether in  their  wretched  dwellings.  One  may  search 
in  vain,  it  is  true,  for  any  evidence  of  that  comfortable 
arrangement  or  wholesome  fitting  and  furnishing  of 
tenements  which  are  supposed  to  be  necessary  to  the 
home -life  of  even  the  poorest  of  the  poor;  and  the 
people  who  live  in  the  cheerless  dwellings  are  not 
clean.  In  what  city  does  one  find  clean  people  living 
in  tumble-down  rookeries  and  dilapidated  tenements? 
Curious  are  the  sights  that  meet  the  eye,  the  sounds 
that  fall  upon  the  ear  of  the  visitor  as  he  threads  his 
way  through  the  dingy,  melancholy  purlieus  of  the 
Rione  Castellamare.  He  is  constantly  reminded  that 
the  people,  so  like  Saracens  in  aspect,  are  not  indeed 
followers  of  the  Prophet,  for  at  almost  every  corner  of 
the  streets  he  beholds  shrines  of  the  Madonna  and 
the  saints;  and  in  the  darkest  court -yards  and  nar- 
rowest lanes  are  other  shrines,  before  which  little  oil- 
lamps  twinkle  like  stars  in  the  almost  constant  night 
that  lurks  in  the  shadows  of  these  hideous  holes  and 
corners.  Some  of  the  streets  are  so  narrow  that  the 
people  in  the  upper  stories  of  the  houses,  which  lean 
tottering  over  the  pavement  and  seem  threatening  to 


78  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

fall  upon  the  heads  of  passers-by,  can  almost  shake 
hands  across  the  chasm.  Narrow  as  they  are,  these 
streets  are  the  highways  of  a  large  traffic.  On  each 
side  of  them  are  all  descriptions  of  shops  and  the 
stands  of  dealers  in  cheap  articles  of- food,  clothing, 
and  household  furniture,  such  as  supply  the  wants  of 
people  who  have  little  money  to  spend  in  making 
themselves  comfortable. 

Passing  and  repassing  at  all  times  of  the  day,  vocif- 
erating in  reply  to  the  shouts  of  the  vendors,  laughing, 
talking,  screaming,  scolding  with  a  volubility  that 
passes  all  belief,  there  ebbs  and  flows  a  tide  of  custom- 
ers, of  idlers,  of  busy  people,  the  majority  of  them 
in  rags,  but  more  or  less  picturesque  and  interesting 
in  their  tatters.  And  we  repeat,  the  majority  of  peo- 
ple are  Asiatic,  not  European,  in  aspect,  action,  and 
manner  of  doing  things. 

Here  and  there  are  to  be  seen  women  with  a  dozen 
or  two  chickens  tied  by  their  legs  to  a  cord  suspended 
from  the  neck  of  the  vendor.  These  poultry-sellers  cry 
their  wares  in  tones  shrill  enough  to  drown  the  cack- 
ling of  live  birds  that  loudly  protest  against  their  cap- 
tivity. We  watched  a  transaction  in  poultry.  The 
negotiation  was  carried  on  with  such  earnestness,  not  to 
say  violence  of  voice  and  manner,  that  an  uninitiated 
passer-by  might  fancy  the  parties  engaged  in  it  were 
accusing  one  another  of  crimes  unmentionable.  They 
stood  close  to  one  another,  the  would-be  purchaser 
carefully  examining  and  feeling  what  little  meat 
there  was  on  the  bones  of  a  decidedly  old  and  time- 
worn  hen  that  had  in  all  probability  long  since  laid 
her  last  egg.  The  discussion  as  to  the  merits  of  the 
fowl   and    the   price    thereof  was   long,    exceedingly 


SARACENIC   QUARTERS  OF  PALERMO  jg 

vociferous,  and  seemed  likely  to  end  in  blows.  Finally, 
having  come  to  an  arrangement  with  the  dealer,  the 
customer  received  the  hen  she  had  selected,  paid  the 
price,  and,  taking  her  merchandise,  moved  off  down  the 
street.  Undoubtedly,  with  an  early  dinner  in  view, 
she  began  plucking  the  live  bird,  an  operation  against 
which  the  unlucky  biped  protested  clamorously,  as, 
handful  by  handful,  the  feathers  were  torn  from  its 
emaciated  carcass  and  given  to  the  winds. 

There  are  many  cobblers  to  be  seen  at  work,  seated 
on  their  benches  in  front  of  their  shops  mending  shoes; 
and  many  tailors,  whose  principal  business  seemed  to  be 
the  patching  of  garments  that  often  had  been  patched 
and  mended.  The  people  who  live  in  these  purlieus 
never  seem  to  be  able  to  purchase  all  the  parts  of  a 
new  outfit  contemporaneously,  but  eke  out  the  new 
with  old  rags  that  in  more  prosperous  countries  would 
long  since  have  found  their  way  to  paper-mills. 

In  front  of  the  dwelling-houses  women  boil  ragged 
clothes  in  copper  kettles  placed  over  charcoal  fur- 
naces of  about  the  size  of  an  ordinary  beer-keg.  This 
is  a  frequent  sight  on  any  fair  day  of  the  week,  but 
particularly  on  Monday,  which  is  wash-day  in  Paler- 
mo, as  it  is  in  the  rest  of  the  world.  On  that  day  the 
narrow  thoroughfares  present  a  most  curious  appear- 
ance, for  from  every  window,  from  side  to  side  of  the 
streets,  are  suspended  the  tatters  of  so  many  households 
that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  look  up  and  catch  any- 
where a  glimpse  of  the  sky.  Of  course  this  exhibition 
of  weekly  washing  is  only  made  by  those  people  who 
can  afford  to  have  two  coats,  or  whatever  it  may  be, 
apiece.  Thousands  upon  thousands  of  people  of  Pa- 
lermo cannot  afford  to  spend  a  day  in  bed,  and  there- 


80  PICTURESQUE  SICILY 

fore  it  may  be  presumed  that  their  rags  and  tatters  are 
rarely,  if  ever,  treated  to  soap  and  water. 

In  the  market  -  places  itinerant  menders  of  all 
imaginable  things  are  to  be  seen  piecing,  patching, 
altering,  refitting  all  kinds  of  articles  hardly  worth 
a  moment's  trouble  to  keep  them  longer  in  use,  and 
wherever  there  is  one  busy  person,  around  him  or  her 
there  gathers  an  audience  of  listless  spectators,  who 
lounge  and  loiter.  Everybody  with  anything  to  do  is 
intently  watched  by  a  dozen  or  more  idle  people  who 
have  nothing  to  do  because  they  cannot  find  or  do 
not  seek  employment. 

At  the  butcher-stalls  there  is  displayed  a  most  un- 
attractive supply  of  flesh  of  one  sort  or  another,  prin- 
cipally of  goats ;  but  it  is  only  the  better  class  of 
people,  those  who  can  afford  to  have  their  clothing 
washed  weekly,  that  venture  to  inquire  the  price  even 
of  goat's  meat.  To  eight -tenths  of  the  people  of 
Sicily  animal  food  is  an  untasted  luxury.  One  cor- 
ner of  the  market-place  is  devoted  to  fish -mongers, 
and  large  and  varied  is  the  assortment  of  the  finny 
tribe  they  offer  to  their  customers:  small  jars  of  tiny 
anchovies ;  larger  anchovies  in  larger  jars ;  anchovies 
grown  to  be  sardines — boxes,  buckets,  barrels  filled 
with  these  ;  and  overgrown  sardines,  resembling  small 
herring,  fresh,  salted,  or  preserved  in  oil.  The  seas 
about  Sicily  swarm  with  these  fish,  which  correspond 
to  the  whitebait,  sprats,  and  pilchards  of  northern 
Europe.  Mackerel  there  are  in  abundance,  and  many 
fish  known  and  unknown  to  Englishmen  and  Ameri- 
cans. Oysters  of  an  appearance  and  kind  which  we, 
over-fastidious  perhaps,  never  were  tempted  to  eat 
unless  they  were  served  at  our  hotel  or  opened  for  us 


STREET   ARABS 


SARACENIC   QUARTERS   OF   PALERMO  8 1 

by  the  boatmen  who  dredged  them  from  the  sea. 
But  the  principal  staple  of  sea-food  is  a  slimy,  grew- 
some  -  looking  monster,  the  polyp,  called  "squid" 
by  Newfoundland  fishermen,  who  use  them  for  bait. 
More  uninviting,  more  disgusting-looking  objects  than 
these  same  polyps,  the  small -fry  of  Victor  Hugo's 
devil-fish,  one  can  hardly  imagine;  and  yet  they  are 
eagerly  sought  for  by  poor  Sicilians,  who  count  them- 
selves fortunate  if — on  Friday  at  least,  if  not  oftener — 
they  may  make  a  meal  of  a  mess  from  which  a  New 
York  'longshoreman  would  turn  away  with  loathing. 

Among  the  vegetables  displayed  upon  the  stands 
are  surprising  quantities  of  cauliflowers,  larger  and 
coarser  than  those  grown  in  Northern  Europe,  of  all 
shades — bright  green,  pink,  red  and  purple,  yellow  and 
golden.  At  a  distance  they  look  like  huge  chrysanthe- 
mums, and  lend  vivid  color  to  the  market-place  filled 
with  people  and  things  dressed  and  painted  in  the 
gayest  hues,  all  combining,  with  the  gaudy  carts  and 
the  gay  harnesses  of  the  asses  that  draw  them,  to 
form  a  multicolored  kaleidoscopic  scene,  whereof  we 
shall  not  attempt  to  describe  the  polychrome,  for  the 
reason  that  it  is  indescribable,  almost  unimaginable. 

Many  booths  there  are  at  which  are  sold  cheap 
trinkets  and  "  brummagem  "  ornamentations  intend- 
ed to  be  hung  up  in  churches,  in  commemora- 
tion of  miraculous  cures  vouchsafed  by  saints  who 
have  heard  the  petitions  and  regarded  the  vows  of 
their  devotees.  There  are  countless  carts  containing 
skins  of  wine,  and  stands  where  various  kinds  of  "be- 
vete  "  are  sold — soda-water,  herb-teas,  and  "  bevande 
medicinale,"  a  sort  of  root-beer.  "  Readers  of  books" 
sit  surrounded  by  eager  people  listening  to  expositions 


82  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

of  the  cheap  literature  of  the  day.  "  Letter-writers  " 
there  are  also  who  for  five  soldi  indite  epistles  for  the 
people  who  know  not  how  to  write,  or  make  up  the 
simple  accounts  of  the  costermongers.  Around  the 
fountains  there  is  always  a  host  of  womankind,  who 
bear  upon  their  shoulders  amphorae  of  the  same  shape 
and  material  as  those  to  be  seen  in  the  collections  of 
Greek  antiquities.  Occasionally,  as  we  watched  these 
throngs,  we  beheld  a  young  Palermitana  of  fair  face 
and  graceful  figure,  who,  when  she  raised  her  filled 
amphora  to  her  shoulder,  unconsciously  posed  in  a 
statuesque  attitude,  a  subject  for  a  sculptor  or  an  art- 
ist, a  bit  of  old  Greek  art  in  the  wilderness  of  modern 
conventionalities,  charming  in  comparison  with  the 
worn  and  wearied  matrons  so  intent  upon  the  affairs 
of  to-day,  so  wrapped  up  in  thoughts  of  the  things  of 
this  work-a-day  world  and  oppressed  by  its  cares.  When 
the  pleasing  figure  vanished  there  was  little  to  attract 
one  in  the  sight  of  the  market-place,  with  its  crowd 
of  toiling,  struggling,  ragged,  half- starved  humanity,. 
The  cries,  the  smells,  of  the  market-places  in  the 
Rione  Castellamare,  who  can  describe  them  ? 

In  the  Rione  Palazzo  Reale  the  appearance  of  the 
streets  and  the  people  is  no  less  Saracenic  in  aspect 
than  those  of  the  Rione  Castellamare.  There  are 
many  churches  in  this  part  of  the  town,  said  to  have 
been  erected  on  the  foundations  of  old  mosques;  for 
the  district  known  as  the  "  Albergheria  "  was  in  an- 
cient times  the  most  crowded  quarter  of  the  Palermo  of 
the  Emirs.  From  the  Piazza  del  Carmine,  an  irregular 
open  place,  there  radiate  in  all  directions  lanes,  alleys, 
and  by-ways,  narrow,  dark,  and  mysterious  passages, 
between   the   tottering    houses.      It    is   worth   while 


SARACENIC   QUARTERS   OF   PALERMO  83 

sometimes  to  walk  through  these  places  for  the  sake 
of  obtaining  bits  of  local  color.  Women  stand  in  the 
ivory-black  shadows  of  doorways,  which  bring  out  in 
strong  relief  the  brilliant  hues  of  their  frocks  and  the 
brightness  of  their  eyes.  Many  of  the  younger  wom- 
en display  good  taste  in  arranging  the  cheap  materi- 
als they  use  in  making  their  scant  apparel.  All  of 
them — girls,  young  women  and  old — hood  themselves 
with  their  shawls,  which  they  clasp  beneath  their 
chins,  partly  covering  their  faces.  Groups  of  men  and 
women  squat  in  dark  doorways,  around  shallow  brass 
platters  containing  a  handful  of  glowing  charcoal  over 
which  they  cook  their  food  and  in  cold  weather  at- 
tempt to  warm  their  frosty  hands. 

Near  La  Chiesa  del  Carmine  we  beheld  the  not 
unusual  spectacle  of  a  young  recruit,  newly  drafted, 
taking  leave  of  his  family.  He  was  a  good-looking 
boy,  but  seemed  hardly  to  be  of  an  age  to  fit  him 
for  service  in  the  army.  He  was  in  uniform,  had  his 
knapsack  packed,  and  was  ready  to  depart,  but  he 
stood  in  the  middle  of  the  street  blubbering  as  he  re- 
lated his  tale  of  woe  to  his  younger  sisters  and  broth- 
ers, and  perhaps  cousins,  for  there  were  at  least  ten  or 
twelve  small  children  around  him,  some  of  whom 
stood,  others  knelt,  upon  the  pavement,  all  of  them 
weeping  as  if  their  hearts  would  break.  The  boy's 
mother,  her  eyes  red,  her  hair  dishevelled,  was  deliv- 
ering a  tirade  (presumably  against  the  iniquity  of  the 
military  system  of  the  kingdom)  to  a  dozen  or  more 
of  her  friends,  who  gave  their  most  unequivocal,  vocif- 
erous assent  to  all  her  propositions  and  complaints. 
The  lane  was  full  of  women  ;  there  were  a  few  men, 
and  these  latter  were  very  old,  too  old  to  work.     The 


84  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

windows  and  doors  of  the  houses  were  occupied  by 
other  women,  all  talking,  all  gesticulating,  all  very  an- 
gry.    Many  of  them  had  reason,  no  doubt,  to  remem- 
ber with  anything  but  pleasure  and  patriotic  joy  the 
day  when  their  sons  or  brothers,  sweethearts  or  hus- 
bands, had  been  taken  away  from  them  to  serve  their 
time  in  the  royal  army.     When  the  young  recruit  was 
motioned   to   come  away  by  the   sergeant   (a  good- 
natured  fellow,  who  had  permitted  his  charge  to  halt 
on  his  way  to  the  railway  station),  the  scene  in  the 
lane  beggared  description.     The  children   gave   loud 
voice  to  their  sorrow ;  the  mother  frantically  kissed 
her  boy,  his  face,  his  hands,  his  clothing,  and,  falling  to 
the  ground,  kissed  his  feet.     Then,  rising  to  her  knees, 
she  clinched  both  hands,  and,  raising  them  to  heaven, 
seemed  to  be  delivering  curses  at  the  sergeant  and  at 
all  above  him  set  in  authority  who  had  lot  or  interest 
in  taking  her  son  from  her.     Leaping  to  her  feet  in  a 
paroxysm  of  fury,  she  crossed  herself,  spat  upon  the 
tips  of  her  fingers,  and,  stooping,  made  the  sign  of  a 
cross  upon  the  pavement,  upon  which  she  threw  her- 
self and  lay  at  full  length,  weeping  hysterically.     Her 
women  friends  gathered  around  her,  raised  her  from 
the  ground,  and    led   her  into  her  wretched   house. 
The  children,  bellowing  and  gesticulating,  followed  the 
young  recruit  to  the  corner  of  the  street,  whence  they 
shrieked    a  last   farewell   to  the  young  soldier,  who 
trudged  beside  the  sergeant,  weeping  aloud.    So  far  as 
we  were  witnesses  to  the  incident  it  closed  then  and 
there,  and  little  is  suggested  by  this  recital  if  not  the  fact 
that  undoubtedly  the  Triple  Alliance  is  very  unpopu- 
lar with  that  class  of  Sicilians  from  which  are  drafted 
the  common  soldiers  who  serve  in  the  Italian  army. 


X 

IN  PALERMO 

The  Genius  of  Palermo  —  La  Piazza  della  Rivoluzione  —  La 
Chiesa  della  Gangia — Volfango  Goethe — La  Villa  Giulia — 
L'  Orto  Botanico— La  Via  Borgo— Le  Belle  Donne — Inter- 
esting Sights  —  "The  Sailors'  Rest"  —  La  Cala  —  II  Foro 
Italico. 

From  La  Porta  Garibaldi,  through  which  "  The  Lib- 
erator" entered  when  he  captured  Palermo,  La  Via 
Garibaldi  leads  to  La  Piazza  della  Rivoluzione,  in  the 
heart  of  the  southeastern  quarter  of  the  city.  This 
open  space  was  anciently  known  as  Forum  Vetus. 
"  Fiera  Vecchia  "  it  was  called  in  later  times. 

On  the  1 2th  of  January,  1848,  and  again  on  the 
27th  of  March,  1850,  La  Piazza  della  Rivoluzione  was 
the  scene  of  revolts  against  the  tyranny  of  the  Bour- 
bons, and  in  the  middle  of  the  triangular  piazza  there 
stands  a  statue  of  the  Genius  of  Palermo,  which,  with- 
out possessing  any  artistic  merit,  is  dear  to  the  hearts 
of  the  people.  In  i860  the  followers  of  Garibaldi, 
having  discovered  this  statue  where  it  had  been  con- 
cealed by  Maniscalco  (of  infamous  memory),  the  po- 
lice agent  of  King  Bomba,  replaced  it  on  its  pedestal, 
where  it  remains  safe  and  secure  until  this  day,  a  re- 
minder of  the  grand  period  of  "  Sicilian  Regeneration." 

Not  far  from  La  Piazza  della  Rivoluzione,  on  La  Via 


86  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

Alloro,  stands  La  Chiesa  della  Gangia,  built  in  1430, 
and  dedicated  to  Santa  Maria  degli  Angeli.  The  ex- 
terior of  this  church  is  in  the  style  of  the  architecture 
of  the  fifteenth  century,  but  it  has  been  spoiled  by 
reckless  restoration.  Its  interior,  however,  preserves 
its  ancient  form  and  construction,  notwithstanding 
the  fact  that  it  was  much  damaged  by  a  fire  that 
threatened  to  destroy  the  building  two  centuries  ago. 
The  roof  is  in  wood,  and  is  an  interesting  study, 
reminding  one  of  the  old  Norman  roofs  of  the  cathe- 
drals of  Cefalu  and  Monreale,  from  which  it  was  evi- 
dently copied.  But  it  is  not  architectural  beauty  nor 
adornment  that  makes  La  Gangia  one  of  the  most  in- 
teresting buildings  in  Palermo. 

On  the  4th  of  April,  i860,  an  attempt  was  made  by 
numerous  citizens,  headed  by  Francesco  Riso,  who 
raised  the  standard  of  revolution,  to  free  the  city  from 
the  detested  Neapolitans.  The  outbreak  was  prompt- 
ly suppressed  ;  Riso  was  mortally  wounded,  and  his 
companions  took  refuge  in  the  church  and  adjoining 
cloisters,  where  certain  of  them  were  captured  by  the 
Bourbon  soldiery.  Two  of  the  revolutionists,  Philippo 
Patti  and  Gaspari  Bivona,  escaped  and  concealed 
themselves  in  the  crypt  of  the  church,  where  they  re- 
mained hidden  for  five  days.  Their  place  of  refuge 
was  known  to  certain  of  their  friends,  who,  eluding  the 
vigilance  of  the  sentries,  communicated  with  the 
refugees,  and,  while  supplying  them  with  food,  assured 
them  that  trusty  citizens  would  find  some  means  of  res- 
cuing them  from  their  perilous  situation.  Patti  and 
Bivona  loosened  two  or  three  of  the  large  stones  in  the 
walls  of  the  crypt,  but  left  them  in  place  ready  to  be 
pushed  out  when  the  signal  to  attempt  their  escape  was 


IN   PALERMO  87 

given.  One  evening,  as  the  friends  of  the  prisoners 
had  planned,  a  large  load  of  hay  was  driven  through 
La  Via  Alloro.  So  great  a  crowd  of  people  gathered 
around  the  wagon  that  the  sentries  were  unable  to  see 
up  and  down  the  street.  At  the  right  moment  the 
two  refugees  pushed  out  the  loosened  stones,  and, 
crawling  through  the  hole,  gained  the  street  and  lost 
themselves  in  the  crowd  of  their  fellow-patriots,  who, 
in  silence,  made  way  for  them  as  Patti  and  Bivona  fled 
for  their  lives  and  liberty.  The  hole  through  which 
the  two  patriots  made  their  escape  from  the  crypt  is 
called  in  Sicilian  dialect  "II  Bucu  dellu  Salvezzu,"  * 
and  has  been  closed  by  a  block  of  marble,  on  which 
there  is  an  inscription  commemorating  the  rescue  of 
the  two  revolutionists. 

Not  far  from  La  Chiesa  della  Gangia,  in  the  centre 
of  a  large  and  handsome  square  surrounded  by  sight- 
ly buildings  of  modern  construction,  there  is  a  monu- 
ment to  the  memory  of  those  companions  of  Patti 
and  Bivona  who  were  massacred  after  their  capture 
in  La  Gangia.  An  inscription  recites  that  the  obelisk, 
which  was  erected  by  the  municipality  of  Palermo, 
"In  memory  of  the  thirteen  victims  of  April  4,  i860, 
was  dedicated  on  April  4,  1883."  There  is  also  a  tab- 
let commemorating  the  heroism  of  Giovanni  Riso,  the 
leader  of  the  revolt ;  and  on  the  other  three  sides  are 
the  names  of  his  twelve  unfortunate  fellow-conspir- 
ators, who,  after  their  capture  in  La  Gangia,  "were 
brought  to  this  place  and  shot  down  by  repeated  vol- 
leys by  the  troops  of  King  Bomba." 

At  the  foot  of  II  Corso  Vittorio  Emanuele,  near 

*  The  mouth  of  safety. 


88  PICTURESQUE  SICILY 

Porta  Felice,  there  stands  a  spacious  mansion,  in  the 
front  wall  of  which  is  a  marble  tablet  containing  an 
inscription  which  will  be  read  with  interest  by  all 
lovers  of  poetry  and  letters :  "  Giovanni  Volfango 
Goethe,  durante  il  soggiorno  a  Palermo  nel  1789, 
dimoro  in  questa  casa — allora  publica  albergo."  * 

The  apartment  which  the  great  poet  occupied  has 
been  dismantled  and  changed  since  he  lived  in  it. 
"  The  endless  variety  of  views  "  from  the  windows 
and  balconies,  which  so  delighted  his  eye  and  charmed 
his  artistic  spirit,  have  been  shut  out  by  surrounding 
buildings  erected  in  these  later  times.  The  house 
itself  is  still  attractive  in  its  situation  and  arrange- 
ments ;  but  times  have  changed,  and  it  is  no  longer 
one  of  the  fashionable  resorts  of  the  city.  The  old 
buildings  near  it,  once  occupied  by  nobility,  are  now 
turned  into  lodging-houses  and  the  offices  of  impor- 
tant mercantile  firms. 

Not  far  from  the  Goethe  house,  at  the  foot  of  La 
Via  Lincoln,  close  by  the  sea,  there  is  the  garden  of 
La  Flora,  otherwise  known  as  La  Villa  Giulia,  a  large 
square  enclosed  in  handsome  railings,  and  recently 
enlarged  and  beautified. 

In  this  fair  park  Goethe  spent  many  delightful 
hours.  "  It  is  the  most  wonderful  place  in  the  world," 
he  writes  in  April,  1787;  "  regularly  laid  out  by  art,  it 
looks  like  a  fairyland  planted  but  a  short  time  ago ;  it 
nevertheless  transports  you  into  ancient  times."  And 
then  he  informs  us  that  he  hastened  to  purchase  a 
"  Homer"  and  read  the  pages  familiar  to  him.     Here 

*  "  In  this  inn,  then  one  of  the  principal  houses  of  public  entertain- 
ment in  Palermo,  Goethe  resided  during  his  sojourn  in  the  city  in  the 
year  1789." 


IN   PALERMO  89 

he  resorted  daily,  in  fine  weather,  and  he  paints  a 
charming  picture  when  he  describes  how  he  sat  in  the 
garden,  in  the  shade  of  grand  trees,  in  the  midst  of 
flowers,  and  over  a  glass  of  Sicilian  wine  made  an  im- 
promptu translation  of  the  lines  of  Homer  for  the 
benefit  of  his  friend  and  travelling  companion,  Kniep, 
the  artist,  whom  he  had  induced  to  accompany  him 
to  Sicily.  It  is  a  charming  bit  of  personal  narrative. 
Pity  it  is  that  some  great  artist  has  not  conceived  the 
idea  of  transferring  it  to  canvas. 

From  La  Piazza  Quattro-Venti  Consolatione  to  La 
Cala,  La  Via  Borgo  extends  along  the  harbor.  A 
stroll  on  this  wide  esplanade  will  well  repay  observant 
travellers  who  delight  in  lively  street  scenes  and 
crowds  of  active  people.  On  La  Via  Borgo,  where  the 
houses  face  the  sea,  all  is  activity,  noise,  strange  cries, 
color,  and,  be  it  noted,  odors,  not  of  dirt  however,  but 
of  comestibles,  cook-shops,  fish-markets,  and  the  like. 
In  baker-shops  one  sees  queer-shaped  loaves  sugges- 
tive of  the  legless  bodies  of  mulatto  babies,  round 
"  twists,"  solidified  whirlpools  in  dough ;  and  in  these 
shops,  the  dark  interiors  of  which  resemble  caves, 
women  stand  before  ovens  baking  bread — oftentimes 
handsome  women — whose  faces,  lighted  by  the  glow 
of  charcoal  fires,  are  worthy  of  more  than  passing 
glances,  especially  as  "  le  belle  donne  "  of  La  Via  Borgo 
do  not  resent  admiration.  In  the  butcher-shops  there 
are  to  be  seen  much  kid's  meat,  with  the  skin  and  hair 
still  adhering  to  it,  and  sausages  of  all  degrees  of 
convolution  and  entanglement,  various  hashes  and 
minces,  bladders  of  blood-puddings,  black  puddings 
and  white,  and  some  of  ghastly  blue;  all  of  them  ap- 
petite-destroying, grewsome  articles,  reminding  one 


90  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

of  Scotch  haggis  and  the  hideous  puddings  one  sees 
in  Germany  and  other  parts  of  continental  Europe. 

In  the  fruit -shops  are  oranges  and  lemons,  green 
and  golden ;  prickly  pears,  mottled,  white,  scarlet, 
crimson,  and  yellow,  as  curiously  variegated  as  the 
ripe  cocoa -pods  one  sees  in  the  West  Indies;  and 
bunches  of  tomatoes,  peppers,  egg-plants,  melons, 
hung  on  the  walls  to  dry.  In  cheese-shops  are  won- 
derful shapes  and  designs  of  cacio  cavallo,  odorifer- 
ous, pungent,  biting,  the  cheese  of  the  country,  with- 
out which  no  mess  of  macaroni  can  be  prepared  to 
suit  the  Sicilian  palates.  Over  a  wine-shop  we  noticed 
a  curious  motto,  "  Sinchero  il  trovi  sempre,  e  di  valore, 
e  avrai  sana,  la  verita,  e  lieto  di  cuore,"  which  may  be 
paraphrased,  "  In  wine  are  sincerity,  valor,  health, 
truth,  and  lightness  of  heart." 

But  most  curious  of  all  exhibitions  are  those  afford- 
ed by  the  shops  where  "  pasta  "  is  sold  ;  with  lambre- 
quins of  macaroni — spaghetti — suspended  on  rods  in 
front  of  the  buildings  and  across  doorways,  like  Jap- 
anese portieres,  for  in  such  fashion  sellers  of  pasta 
exhibit  their  wares,  as  the  cheap -jacks  of  Chatham 
Square  display  dry  goods  and  second-hand  clothing. 
In  fact,  everywhere  there  are  incredible  quantities  of 
macaroni  hung  in  this  strange  fashion  on  the  walls, 
along  the  streets,  in  vacant  lots,  on  the  roofs  of  build- 
ings, in  court-yards,  and  from  window  to  window  across 
narrow  lanes  ;  everywhere  macaroni  hanging  in  the 
open  air,  in  the  sunlight,  to  be  rained  upon,  to  be 
blown  upon  by  the  odor  and  dust -laden  winds,  reek- 
ing, possibly,  with  bacilli ;  macaroni  hung  up  care- 
lessly where  it  must  catch  the  dust,  the  infection  of  a 
thickly  populated  and  not  too  clean   neighborhood  ; 


IN   PALERMO  91 

macaroni  drying  by  the  shore,  among  the  fishing- 
boats,  where  fishermen  lounge  and  smoke,  where  boys 
play  tag  and  other  games,  dodging  under  and  around 
the  fringes  of  the  yellow  and  white  pasta.  And  yet 
this  favorite  article  of  food  is  not  stolen,  although  it 
is  left  out  at  night,  and  is  apparently  unguarded.  A 
strange  fact ;  for  we  are  told  that  the  people  are 
hungry,  starving,  and  some  travellers  would  persuade 
us  that  Sicilians  are  characteristically  dishonest,  steal- 
ing whatever  they  can  lay  their  hands  on.  Certainly, 
in  the  matter  of  macaroni,  a  chronically  hungry  peo- 
ple may  plead  "not  guilty  "  to  the  indictment. 

From  a  narrow  alley,  where  the  macaroni  portieres 
hung  aloft  like  "  flies  "  above  the  stage  in  a  theatre,  a 
company  of  priests  in  white  cotton  robes  emerged 
upon  La  Via  Borgo,  carrying  the  Host  around  a 
building  in  which  a  death  had  occurred.  The  eldest 
priest  walked  under  an  umbrella  held  aloft  by  one  of 
his  younger  assistants,  six  small  boys  carrying  lan- 
terns, and  one  large  boy  ringing  a  bell  preceding  him. 
The  candles  twinkled,  the  priest  intoned,  the  bell 
rang,  in  vain.  Nobody  cared,  nobody  paid  attention 
to  the  procession,  being  diverted  by  the  organ-grinders, 
of  whom  there  were  many,  playing  airs  so  familiar  to 
us  that  we  could  imagine  the  musicians  and  their 
organs  had  been  across. the  Atlantic  and  were  come 
home  again  to  delight  the  Sicilians  with  rehearsals  of 
the  latest  "  minstrel  songs  "  of  the  Western  World. 
Indeed,  we  fancied  that  we  recognized  two  grinders 
and  their  organ — they  seemed  to  form  a  familiar  group 
in  our  memory.  It  is  not  impossible  that  they  had 
been  in  New  York,  for  they  were  playing  an  air  which 
all  the  little  boys  on  Manhattan  Island  whistle  most 


92  PICTURESQUE  SICILY 

excruciatingly.  There  were  children  dancing  to  the 
music  of  the  organs, and,  farcical  beyond  all  expression, 
a  donkey  braying  thereat.  The  combination  of  sounds 
was  a  little  more  than  our  ears  could  stand,  and 
we  hastened  our  footsteps  to  escape  the  cacophony. 
Nevertheless,  if  the  children  of  men  may  dance  to 
the  sound  of  a  hurdy-gurdy,  why  may  not  an  ass 
bray?     Every  one  to  his  taste  ! 

Of  unceasing  interest  and  endless  change  are  the 
scenes  along  La  Via  Borgo,  where,  at  the  edge  of  the 
sea-wall,  every  two  hundred  feet  are  movable  sentry- 
boxes,  alternately  green  and  yellow,  in  which  stand  ca- 
rabinieri  in  gray-and-scarlet  uniforms.  The  sentinels 
remain  motionless  in  the  shadow  of  their  sentry-boxes 
(one  is  reminded  of  soldier-crabs  in  their  stolen  shells), 
and  keep  their  eyes  on  the  groups  of  idlers,  boatmen, 
fishermen  lounging  about ;  for,  be  it  remembered,  at 
the  time  of  which  we  are  writing  Sicily  was  under 
military  rule,  and  the  government  had  quartered  a 
large  contingent  of  troops  in  Palermo  for  the  purpose 
of  applying  a  leaden  ounce  of  prevention  at  the  very 
beginning  of  social  disorders. 

Along  the  sea-wall  were  hundreds  of  fishing-boats, 
but  we  need  not  dwell  upon  the  quality  of  their  deco- 
rations— like  all  other  things,  they  were  painted  in 
Sicilian  style  ;  boats  setting  out  for  and  returning 
from  the  fishing-banks;  boatmen  with  fish  for  sale; 
men  mending  their  nets,  picturesque-looking  fellows, 
so  unlike,  indeed  without  the  faintest  resemblance  to, 
the  fishermen  one  sees  at  Naples— not  even  remotely 
Italian  in  aspect  and  manner,  but  more  like  Moors 
and  Berbers  are  these  watermen  of  La  Via  Borgo.  It  is 
said  that  the  denizens  of  this  neighborhood  use  many 


IN   PALERMO  93 

Arabic  words  and  are  more  Saracen  than  Italian, 
more  Arabic  than  Latin,  in  their  manners  and  cus- 
toms, the  most  Oriental  of  all  Sicilians. 

Our  attention  was  called  to  a  very  handsome  priest 
standing  in  the  sunlight  which  shone  into  the  vesti- 
bule of  the  Church  of  Santa  Lucia.  His  figure  stood 
out  against  an  ivory -black  background  of  interior 
shadow.  He  was  good-looking  and  picturesque,  and 
was  gazing  with  evident  admiration  at  a  pretty  wom- 
an who  sat  on  the  door-step  of  a  well-restored,  pros- 
perous-looking house  across  the  street.  She  was  a 
busy  woman,  neatly  clad,  and  sang  as  she  knitted  to 
a  toddling  baby  that  frolicked  and  played  hide-and- 
seek,  now  running  into  the  shadow  of  the  doorway  to 
come  again  into  the  sunlight,  like  a  humming-bird 
flitting  near  its  nest.  Over  the  door  of  the  baby's 
home  was  a  sign  in  good,  plain,  satisfactory  English — 
"Sailors' Rest" — and  the  house  was  the  neatest,  clean- 
est, and  most  comfortable  building  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. Its  walls  were  painted  a  sober,  serviceable 
gray ;  its  doors,  windows,  and  shutters  were  in  good 
repair,  and  gave  an  orderly,  well-dressed  appearance 
to  the  establishment.  It  was  an  attractive  place,  and, 
in  addition  to  the  sign  over  the  door,  there  was  an 
illuminated  lamp  with  "  Sailors'  Rest "  painted  on  the 
glass  —  a  pillar  of  cloud. by  day,  of  fire  by  night;  a 
buoy  and  a  light-house,  for  the  guidance  of  English 
and  (as  we  learned  upon  inquiry  within)  American 
sailors,  who  find  themselves,  stranded  on  shore,  as 
much  at  a  loss  what  to  do  with  themselves  as  the 
landsmen  who  find  themselves  afloat  at  sea. 

La  Cala,  the  old  port  of  Palermo,  is  a  most  interest- 
ing and  picturesque  oval  basin  surrounded  by  antique 


94  PICTURESQUE   SICILY 

houses.  When  the  sun  shines,  it  resembles  a  mirror 
in  a  golden  frame.  Between  it  and  the  sea  stands  the 
old  fortress  Castellamare,  which,  although  disman- 
tled and,  in  i860,  after  Garibaldi  captured  it,  thrown 
down  to  prevent  its  being  garrisoned  anew  by  King 
Bomba's  soldiers,  is  nevertheless  an  imposing  pile  of 
masonry.  The  houses  that  face  upon  La  Cala  are  old 
and  curious,  many  of  them  with  gables  and  pictur- 
esque balconies.  The  sunny  color  of  their  walls  con- 
trasts pleasantly  with  their  red -tiled  roofs  and  the 
bright  flowers  in  painted  boxes  on  the  window-sills. 
La  Cala  is  a  busy  place ;  the  broad  esplanade  in 
front  of  the  houses  is  always  crowded  with  carts  and 
drays,  and  in  the  basin  are  all  sorts  of  queer-looking 
craft  —  feluce,  golette,  fishing -smacks  of  every  rig 
known  to  the  Sicilian  main.  Many  of  them  are  most 
ancient  vessels,  strange  sea  monsters,  with  great  star- 
ing eyes  painted  on  their  bows  and  lee-boards  that 
look  like  fins.  On  all  of  them  are  little  shrines,  be- 
fore which  lamps  are  kept  burning.  The  sailormen 
belonging  to  these  craft  wear  fantastical  costumes, 
which  give  them  the  air  of  Barbary  corsairs  and  the 
Sallee  rovers  made  familiar  to  us  by  much  study  of 
fascinating  wood-cuts  in  our  well-thumbed  "  Robinson 
Crusoe."  Tough  and  hearty,  sun-browned,  sea-worn, 
web-footed  sea-dogs,  so  Moorish-looking,  some  of  them, 
that  one  might  almost  fancy  they  were  descendants  of 
the  crews  of  the  two  Barbarossas  —  Uruj  and  his 
brother,  Kheyr-ed-din — or  of  that  redoubtable  rover, 
Aydin  Reis,  whom  the  Spaniards  of  old  dubbed 
"  Cachidiablo  "  (Drub -devil).  Fishing -smacks  and 
coasters  are  constantly  entering  or  leaving  the  harbor, 
which  is  reserved  for  this  small,  coast-wise  traffic,  and 


IN    PALERMO  95 

therefore  rarely  contains  a  steam  vessel,  so  that  one 
has  little  trouble  in  fancying  that  as  it  looks  to-day, 
so  it  must  have  looked  centuries  ago.  From  time  to 
time,  when  you  meet  a  group  of  sailors  with  yellow, 
brown,  or  red  hair,  blue  eyes,  and  ruddy  cheeks, 
stolid,  earnest-looking  chaps,  more  jovial  in  tempera- 
ment than  their  excitable  Saracenic-looking  brethren, 
your  memory  carries  you  back  to  the  days  when  a 
handful  of  "canning-men  "  lorded  it  over  a  multitude  of 
Moors,  who  acknowledged  the  Northman's  supremacy 
on  land  and  his  right  to  rule  the  Mediterranean  waves. 
Beginning  at  La  Cala  and  extending  south,  a  grand 
esplanade  known  as  ILForo  Italico  extends  along  the 
water  -  front  between  a  sea  -  wall  and  the  gardens  in 
front  of  a  long  row  of  palaces.  This  grand  boulevard, 
La  Marina,  from  La  Porta  Felice  to  La  Villa  Giulia,  is 
several  hundred  feet  in  width,  and  down  the  centre 
of  it  there  are  two  rows  of  ilex-trees.  The  waves  beat 
against  the  sea-wall,  and  often  during  storms  great 
clouds  of  spray  sprinkle  the  flowers  in  the  gardens  in 
front  of  the  palaces.  In  the  summer-time  II  Foro 
Italico  is  the  grand  promenade  of  fashionable  Palermo. 
There,  in  the  evening,  crowds  of  idlers  sit  gazing  out  to 
sea  as  they  sip  lemonade  or  partake  of  ices,  "granata," 
and  the  like,  for  which  the  cafes  of  Palermo  are  famous. 
Nothing  can  be  finer  than  the  view  obtained  from  this 
sea-front,  nothing  more  picturesque  or  stately  than  the 
palaces,  some  of  them  the  richest  in  Sicily,  occupied 
by  families  whose  names  have  been  household  words 
in  Sicilian  history  for  many  generations ;  and  near  by, 
in  La  Villa  Giulia,  is  always  music  on  fine  afternoons 
and  evenings,  where  it  is  delightful  to  promenade  be- 
neath the  grand  trees  among  the  flowers  and  statuary. 


XI 

SUNNY   WINTER    DAYS 

La  Villa  Belmonte — La  Favorita — Mondello — La  Villa  Scalea 
— San  Martino — A  Noble  Charity — Ancient  Trees. 

Contrary  to  the  dogma  of  the  weatherwise  of 
more  northern  latitudes,  as  the  days  grew  longer  the 
cold  did  not  grow  stronger,  and  almost  at  the  opening 
of  the  new  year  the  good  weather,  which  had  been 
confidently  predicted  for  Palermo  and  its  environment 
during  January,  set  in,  and  more  delightful  sunny 
days,  grander  star-lit  nights,  cannot  be  imagined.  Our 
Sicilian  friends,  who  knew  of  our  disappointment  at 
finding  December  so  wintry  and  tempestuous,  now 
greeted  us  triumphantly  when  we  met  them,  calling 
to  us  cheerily  to  know  if  Sicilian  weather  was  not  all 
that  they  had  promised  that  it  would  be  when  the 
new  year  brought  round  its  changes.  We  were  abroad 
early  and  late,  spent  our  mornings  and  afternoons  out 
of  doors,  rejoicing  exceedingly  in  the  sunlight  and  the 
fine  air,  which  inspired  us  to  venture  on  long  walks, 
and  rendered  driving  about  II  Conco  d'  Oro  and  into 
the  neighboring  country  a  delightful  recreation. 

Our  favorite  morning  ramble  was  to  La  Villa  Bel- 
monte, a  most  enchanting  estate  on  the  southern  foot- 
hills of  Monte  Pellegrino,  overlooking  Acqua  Sancta, 
the  favorite  seaside  resort  of  fashionable  Palermitans. 


A   FORTUNE-TELLER 


SUNNY   WINTER    DAYS  97 

From  the  grand  gate  of  the  domain  a  broad  avenue 
winds  upward  through  a  grove  of  lemon-trees  to  La 
Villa  Belmonte.  On  each  hand  are  hedges  of  gera- 
nium, "  fico  d'  India,"  heliotrope,  and  honeysuckle, 
woven  masses  of  every  shade  of  green.  Pines  and 
myrtles,  ilex,  cypresses,  and  curious  pepper-trees  shade 
the  lawns,  and  in  front  of  the  great  house  is  an  "Ital- 
ian Garden,"  embellished  with  statuary,  vases,  marble 
steps,  and  balustrades.  Amid  the  roses  are  marble 
seats,  where  it  is  pleasant  to  sit  in  the  sun  as  the 
eye  wanders  over  the  charming  expanse  of  II  Conco 
d'  Oro.  The  murmur  of  the  city  is  borne  hitherward 
on  gentle  breezes,  and  the  chanting  of  the  surf  rises 
from  the  sea  -  shore  below.  The  sound  of  distant 
voices,  the  laughter  of  children  at  play,  fall  gently 
upon  the  ear;  the  notes  of  thrushes,  nightingales 
hidden  in  the  shrubbery,  and  of  larks  singing  high 
overhead,  fill  the  air  with  gladness.  The  outlines  of 
the  hills  and  mountains,  so  rich  in  color,  show  tremu- 
lously, wreathed  in  mists  rising  on  the  warm  air.  Soft 
shadows  flit  across  the  landscape,  and  when  the  sun- 
light chases  these  away  II  Conco  d'  Oro  indeed  seems 
an  earthly  paradise.  From  the  city  onward  there  ex- 
tends towards  the  southeast  a  long  crescent  of  yellow 
sand,  the  golden  hem  of  a  mantle  of  green  meadows 
that  sink  in  gentle  declivity  to  the  sea.  All  the  air  is 
still,  not  portentously  silent,  as  in  the  lonely  glens 
amid  the  savage  peaks  of  Cuccio  and  the  Mountain  of 
the  Griffins,  but  calm  and  restful  —  peace  brooding 
where  all  nature  is  beautiful.  Such  is  the  prospect 
from  La  Villa  Belmonte,  and  the  beholder,  in  dreamy 
contemplation  of  its  glories,  drinks  in  all  the  delicious 
sights  and  sounds  and  odors  of  the  enchanted  spot. 

7 


98  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

In  the  Italian  Garden  we  spent  several  mornings, 
where  we  tried  to  read,  but  constantly  caught  our- 
selves gazing  far  away  over  the  top  of  the  page,  too 
listless  to  give  our  mind  to  what  was  written  when 
so  much  that  was  sensuously  delightful  was  pictured 
before  us  to  woo  our  thoughts  from  even  the  sem- 
blance of  study  or  work.  Near  our  favorite  seat  is  a 
monument,  of  all  that  we  had  seen  most  fantastic, 
and  upon  it  an  inscription  which  much  amuses  the 
passer-by,  exciting  curiosity  to  know  the  full  meaning 
of  it :  "  The  last  residence  of  the  affectionate  flea ; 
born  in  London  from  the  quadrupedal  family  of  ter- 
riers;  died  in  Palermo  9th  day  of  May,  1879."  Such 
is  the  inscription  ;  and  we  teased  ourselves  in  vain  to 
learn  how  the  obelisk  came  there,  who  erected  it,  and 
why.  The  conceit  is  whimsical,  and  when  we  told  our 
fellow-guests  at  the  hotel  that  the  monument  was  to 
be  seen  and  the  inscription  read  in  La  Villa  Belmonte, 
they  smiled  incredulously,  but  nevertheless  set  off  the 
next  fine  day  to  visit  the  tomb  of  certainly  the  only 
insect  of  its  kind  that  has  been  thought  worthy  of 
commemoration  in  enduring  marble. 

When  it  was  our  good-fortune  to  fall  in  with  the 
gardener  who  had  charge  of  this  paradise,  we  returned 
home  with  an  armful  of  flowers  which  he  gathered  for 
us,  giving  us  meanwhile  permission  to  pluck  others,  as 
many  as  we  chose,  for  ourselves.  When  we  did  not 
meet  our  goodman-gossip  in  his  accustomed  walks,  we 
climbed  the  hills  behind  the  villa  and  helped  ourselves 
to  the  wild  flowers  that  grow  in  profusion  all  over  the 
country-side ;  and  as  we  returned  home  through  the 
sunlight  with  our  treasures,  it  was  almost  impossible 
to  persuade  ourselves  that  we  had  found  them  in  the 


SUNNY   WINTER  DAYS  99 

latitude  of  Washington,  D.  C,  blooming  early  in  Jan- 
uary. 

We  ventured  abroad  one  morning  before  sunrise, 
intending  to  be  present  when  the  fishermen  who  had 
spent  the  night  off  the  coast  returned  with  their 
catch  to  their  homes  in  the  little  fishing  village  of 
Mondello,  one  of  the  most  picturesque  hamlets  on  the 
north  Sicilian  shore.  As  the  sun  arose  from  behind 
the  purple  mountains,  the  eastern  sky  was  suffused 
with  a  shell-pink  glow ;  the  horizon-line  but  vaguely 
suggested  where  the  sea  and  sky  met  and  mingled  in 
opalescent  light.  The  heavens  overhead  were  a  dark, 
steel  blue,  the  waters  far  out  from  land  emerald  ; 
hitherward,  the  sea  shone  brightly  iridescent  in  ever- 
changing  sheen  of  heliotrope  and  apple-green  and  un- 
certain shades  of  polished  and  antique  bronze  ;  nearer, 
bands  of  purple,  ultra-marine  and  orange,  bright  gold, 
dove  color,  and  creamy  white.  At  a  short  distance 
from  the  shore  an  almost  unbroken  band  of  frosted 
silver  stretched  across  the  picture  from  side  to  side. 
The  surf  breaking  upon  the  beach  was  milk  white,  and 
the  waves  that  languidly  rolled  and  crumbled  upon  the 
yellow  sands  flowed  upon  the  beach  in  filmy  undula- 
tions of  ivory,  coral,  mother-of-pearl,  glittering  rifts  of 
liquid  light.  Almost  at  our  feet,  ripples  breaking  into 
beads  and  lacework  of  foam  and  bubbles,  catching  all 
the  tints  of  Iris,  glistened  like  opals,  onyx,  and  price- 
less gems.  If  one  can  imagine  old  Venetian  lace 
woven  of  rainbow,  such  were  the  tints  and  texture  of 
the  borders  of  the  sea  on  that  enchanting  morning. 

The  artist  who,  in  Sicily,  strives  to  hold  the  mirror 
up  to  nature  finds  himself  foiled  by  the  exhaustion  of 
chromatic  force  and  discovers  that  it  is  impossible,  by 


IOO  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

contrasts  of  light  and  shade,  to  give  expression  to  the 
brilliancy  of  the  Sicilian  sky  or  the  glamour  of  Sicil- 
ian landscapes.  As  well  attempt  to  paint  a  ruby  im- 
bedded in  a  jacqueminot  rose,  a  pearl  in  the  heart 
of  a  cream-white  rosebud  !  Watching  the  grand  and 
wonderful  spectacle  of  sunrise  from  Mondello,  we  for- 
got all  about  the  fishermen  and  their  fish,  and  when  it 
was  bright  day  we  were  content  to  turn  our  faces  city- 
ward, taking  with  us  the  memory  of  a  scene  the  mag- 
nificence of  which  it  is  impossible  to  paint  in  words. 
Four  miles  or  more  beyond  La  Favorita  is  La 
Villa  Scalea.  We  were  fortunate  in  being  invited  by 
the  proprietress  of  this  rich  estate  to  visit  her  villa 
and  inspect  her  treasures,  in  the  collection  of  which 
she  has  displayed  unerring  good  taste  and  rare  dis- 
crimination. We  were  bidden  to  make  ourselves  at 
home  and  examine,  at  our  leisure,  many  beautiful  and 
precious  articles  most  tastefully  arranged  where  they 
would  show  to  the  best  advantage  in  the  spacious 
rooms  of  the  palazzo.  There  were  old  tapestries  of 
exquisite  design  and  workmanship  on  all  the  walls, 
priceless  Oriental  rugs  on  the  floors  of  the  spacious 
saloons ;  there  were  Moorish  cabinets  curiously  inlaid 
in  rosewood  and  ebony  of  inestimable  value ;  ancient 
treasure-chests,  once  the  property  of  Saracen  emirs ; 
and  chairs  and  divans  fit  for  Norman  kings  to  sit 
upon.  We  were  greatly  interested  in  examining  ex- 
amples of  Saracenic-Spanish  majolica,  particularly  one 
magnificent  plaque  in  gold  and  white,  presumably  of 
the  tenth  century.  It  was  almost  two  feet  in  diame- 
ter, as  perfect  in  form,  as  bright  in  glaze  and  color,  as 
if  it  had  just  come  from  the  hand  of  the  master- 
workman  who   created   it  in  obedience  to  the  com- 


SUNNY   WINTER   DAYS  IOI 

mand  of  a  mighty  caliph.  Regally  mounted  was  this 
royal  object  of  art  on  a  stand  of  carved  ebony,  and 
again  and  again  we  returned  to  it  to  wonder  at  its 
perfection  and  admire  its  matchless  beauty.  Al- 
though we  saw  many  articles  of  European  manufact- 
ure, the  greater  part  of  the  collection  consisted  of 
the  work  of  Arabic  and  Oriental  artificers,  and  we 
could  readily  indulge  the  fancy  that  we  had  been  ad- 
mitted to  the  palace  of  a  Moorish  nobleman,  who  to 
his  specimens  of  native  art  had  added  the  spoils 
taken  from  Christian  princes  to  embellish  the  castle  of 
a  valiant  courtier  of  the  caliphs  of  Cordova. 

When  we  had  passed  two  hours  or  more  in  wonder- 
ing at  all  the  beautiful  things  we  found  to  interest  us, 
tea  was  served  in  the  English  fashion,  and  when  we 
took  our  leave  we  found  in  our  carriage  large  wicker 
trays  of  fruits  and  flowers,  honey  in  dainty  jars,  and 
flasks  of  wine,  all  of  which  were  from  the  gardens, 
orchards,  and  vineyards  surrounding  the  palazzo. 

One  fine  afternoon,  when  the  mild  weather  wooed 
us  far  afield,  we  found  ourselves  at  San  Martino,  an 
ancient  Benedictine  convent  built  by  Gregory  the 
Great  in  the  seventh  century,  but  now  occupied  by 
"  La  Colonia  Agricola  di  San  Martino."  In  this  re- 
formatory are  twelve  hundred  boys,  mostly  street 
arabs  of  Palermo,  who,  but  for  the  opportunity  here 
offered  them  to  become  useful  men,  would  remain  in 
the  condition  of  misery  and  criminal  association  in 
which  they  were  born.  The  vast  estate,  once  tilled 
by  the  serfs  of  the  Abbot  of  San  Martino,  is  culti- 
vated by  boys,  who  thus  gain  practical  knowledge  of 
husbandry  which  will  stand  them  in  good  stead  in 
after-life,  when  they  go  forth  from  their  Alma  Mater 


102  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

to  plough  and  prune  in  the  fields  and  vineyards  of 
their  native  island. 

The  healthy,  wholesome  appearance  of  the  pupils 
and  the  orderliness  of  their  deportment  bear  testimony 
to  the  care  that  is  taken  of  them,  and  they  bid  fair 
to  become  good  followers  of  St.  Benedict,  the  holy 
monk  who  never  ceased  to  preach  the  doctrine  that 
he  who  labored  with  his  hands  was  doing  God's  work 
and  benefiting  humankind.  To  good  uses,  there- 
fore, has  the  old  monastery  been  put.  Instead  of 
sheltering  a  few  dreaming,  idle  drones,  it  has  been 
turned  into  a  busy  bee-hive  of  workers,  and  its  young 
inmates,  rendered  intelligent  by  the  knowledge  ac- 
quired in  boyhood,  will  in  after-years  help  to  solve 
the  social  and  political  problems  that  present  them- 
selves on  every  hand  for  the  consideration  of  all  Si- 
cilians who  love  their  native  land  and  pray  for  her 
good-fortune  and  success. 

On  the  foot-hills  of  Monte  Grifone,  near  the  ancient 
convent  of  Santa  Maria  di  Gesu,  where  we  often 
walked,  enjoying  a  marvellous  view  of  II  Conco  d'  Oro, 
we  found  a  constant  source  of  delight  in  studying  the 
ancient  olive-trees,  most  picturesque  in  their  incredi- 
ble antiquity.  There  were  hundreds  of  them  said  to 
have  been  planted  by  the  Saracens,  and  consequently 
more  than  a  thousand  years  old — grand  ruined  trees, 
gray  and  venerable,  weird,  misshapen,  and  fantastical, 
overgrown  with  vines  and  creepers  like  ruined  towers, 
clutching  moss-grown  rocks  with  gnarled  and  knotted 
roots,  grasping  the  earth  with  giant  claws  whose  death- 
less grip  had  resisted  the  whirlwinds  of  many  centuries. 
They  reminded  us  of  the  supernatural  beings  described 
by  Dante  and  drawn  by  Gustave  Dore\     We  recalled 


A   SICILIAN  "MADONNA" 


SUNNY   WINTER   DAYS  103 

the  birth  of  the  first  priests  of  Rhea-Cybele,  the  Cu- 
retes  and  Corybantes,  the  first  beings  of  human  form, 
which  sprang  from  the  mountain -side  in  shape  like 
trees  —  grand  leafy  monsters,  brethren  of  the  sacred 
oaks  of  Dodona  ;  and  as  we  listened  to  the  soughing 
of  the  wind  in  their  branches  we  could  fancy  we  heard 
"the  voice  of  the  powerful  God  murmuring  the  ever- 
lasting oracles." 

One  noble  living  ruin  we  found,  whose  boughs  re- 
minded us,  by  their  mighty  folds  and  cords,  of  the 
arm  of  Hercules;  its  trunk,  of  the  marble  "torso" 
which  blind  Buonarroti  loved  to  stroke  and  deftly 
touch,  studying  its  faultless  anatomy.  From  the  roots 
of  it  there  flowed  a  living  spring,  and  amid  its  branch- 
es a  flock  of  pigeons  nested,  resting  broodingly  or 
circling  in  short  flights  about  its  crown  of  leaves  like 
the  ring-doves  that  guarded  the  tree  sacred  to  Aphro- 
dite, daughter  of  Zeus  and  Dione.  Near  by  a  no  less 
mighty  form,  with  wide-spread  roots  appearing  here 
and  there  above  the  turf,  recalled  the  dragon-encircled 
tree  from  which  Jason  stole  away  the  Golden  Fleece  ; 
and  almost  in  its  shadow  grew  a  fresh  young  graft 
casting  its  slender  arms  heavenward  above  its  lithe 
and  graceful  figure  —  Daphne,  whom  the  "  spotless 
goddess  "  transformed  into  an  olive-tree  when  Apollo 
wooed  the  nymph  too  rudely  and  too  persistently. 
What  a  world  of  mythology  was  revealed  in  the  at- 
titudes and  groupings  of  these  old,  old  trees  growing 
on  the  slopes  of  the  Mountain  of  the  Griffins,  in  the 
chasms  of  which  are  to  be  found  the  Caves  of  the 
Giants !  We  were  strangely  fascinated  by  the  fan- 
tasies that  formed  themselves  in  the  mind  as  we 
passed  through  this  land  of  chimeras  and   uncanny 


104  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

presences.  We  returned  again  and  again,  drawn  to 
it,  especially  in  the  gloaming,  when  unearthly  shapes 
wavered  and  trembled  between  light  and  darkness, 
teasing  sight  and  imagination,  as  deepening  shadows, 
weaving  mystery,  transfigured  the  landscape  over 
which  there  seemed  to  linger  the  twilight  of  the  an- 
cient gods. 


XII 

AT   THE   OPERA 

A  Study  of  Sicilian  Character — The  Rival  Claques — Initiating 
a  New  Opera  Troupe — "  Carmen  " — "  Toreador  Attento  " — 
A  Musical  "  Sicilian  Vespers" — Moral. 

Palermitans  are  music -mad.  No  less  emphatic 
term  will  adequately  describe  their  intense  craving 
for  the  kind  and  quality  of  music  that  stirs  their 
hearts,  arouses  their  passions,  and  appeals  to  their 
imaginations.  Music  with  them  is  really  an  affair  of 
the  heart  rather  than  an  intellectual  delight,  as  it  is 
with  the  Germans.  A  Sicilian  audience  at  an  opera, 
actually  and  in  a  practical  sense,  "  assists  "  at  the  rep- 
resentation ;  it  makes  itself  an  important  factor  of  the 
performance,  as  much  a  part  of  the  opera  as  the 
Greek  chorus  was  a  part  of  the  exhibition  on  the 
stage.  The  audience  not  only  hears  the  music,  but 
feels  it,  lives  it.  The  crowd  seems  to  become  vibrant, 
infected  by  the  harmony  and  rhythm,  responding  in- 
voluntarily to  the  tone  of  the  instruments  and  the 
expression  of  the  singers.  The  auditors  are  rarely 
silent ;  they  attend  the  performances  in  the  Politeama, 
not  to  see  and  be  seen — they  go  there  to  hear  and 
to  be  heard. 

To  visit  the  capital  of  Sicily  when,  of  all  operas, 
"Carmen"  is  having  a  run  —  in  other  words,  when 


106  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

there  is  a  season  of  "  Carmen  "  at  the  Politeama-Gari- 
baldi — without  attending  one  or  more  performances, 
is  like  being  at  Seville  and  failing  to  see  a  bull-fight, 
or  visiting  Rome  and  neglecting  to  avail  oneself  of 
the  opportunity  of  acquiring  malaria  by  a  visit  to  the 
Colosseum  by  moonlight. 

From  a  New  York  or  London  point  of  view,  going 
to  the  opera  in  Palermo  is  not  a  ruinously  extrava- 
gant form  of  polite  amusement.  If  the  cost  of  tick- 
ets, flowers,  carriages,  and  the  other  accessories  and 
superfluities  is  compared  with  the  ruling  market-price 
of  the  same  in  New  York,  it  will  be  found  that  the 
balance  is  overwhelmingly  in  favor  of  Palermo.  A 
pair  of  white  gloves  (gentleman's)  costs  in  Palermo  three 
and  a  half  lire  (seventy  cents)  for  the  very  best  qual- 
ity ;  a  lady  may  have  ten  buttons  for  the  same  price, 
additional  buttons  costing  at  the  rate  of  twenty-five 
centesimi  (five  cents)  for  each  pair  of  buttons  up  to 
x-Vy  buttons  in  all.  A  vettura  with  two  horses,  coach- 
man in  livery,  very  smart  and  well  turned  out,  may 
be  hired  for  opera  service  for  eight  lire  ($i  60).  But 
one  can  ride  comfortably  to  the  Politeama  from  any 
part  of  the  city  in  clean,  reputable  -  looking  carozze 
for  the  exceedingly  reasonable  sum  of  sixty  centesi- 
mi, or  twelve  cents  American  money.  One  can  buy 
a  bunch  of  five  hundred  of  the  rarest  violets  for  a  lira 
and  a  half  (thirty  cents)  or  an  armful — literally  that — 
of  magnificent  roses  for  the  New  York  price  of  one 
American  beauty  or  a  pair  of  Boston  jacqueminots. 
A  box  (palcho)  containing  chairs  for  ten  people  costs 
but  thirty-five  lire  ($7  00) ;  half  a  box,  eighteen  lire ; 
an  orchestra  chair  (poltrona),  seven  lire ;  a  posto  dis- 
tincto  (orchestra  circle),  five  lire;  standing-room  in 


AT  THE    OPERA  107 

the  pit  (platea),  two  and  a  half  lire ;  a  seat  in  the 
family  circle  (prima  cavea),  one  lira ;  and  foot-room 
in  the  gallery  (seconda  cavea),  fifty  centesimi  (one 
dime) ;  and,  to  complete  the  price-list  of  a  Palermitan 
opera  outfit,  a  libretto  costs  five  cents.  A  reduction 
is  made  to  the  military,  who,  it  is  understood,  are  to 
present  themselves  in  uniform,  which  they  do  in  large 
numbers ;  and  as  they  lend  dignity,  distinction,  and 
color  to  the  audience,  the  favor  shown  them  in  the 
matter  of  prices  is  not  considered  excessive  or  inap- 
propriate. The  officers  are  conspicuous,  by  reason  of 
their  gold  lace  and  trappings,  at  all  times  and  in  all 
positions,  but  between  the  acts  especially  are  they 
prominent  features  of  the  picture.  As  the  curtain 
falls  they  rise  with  professional  precision,  face  about, 
raise,  level,  take  aim,  and,  to  complete  the  analogy, 
fire  their  opera  -  glasses  point-blank  at  the  lace  and 
diamonds  in  the  boxes,  until  the  rising  of  the  curtain, 
when  they  recover,  ground  opera -glasses,  front  face, 
and  resume  their  seats. 

A  performance  in  the  Politeama  is  preceded  by  the 
playing  of  Garibaldi's  Hymn,  an  incident  which  al- 
ways excites  the  audience  to  delirious  demonstrations 
of  delight  and  approval.  It  warms  them  up,  as  it 
were,  to  the  work  of  the  evening,  and  it  may  be  said 
to  be  the  only  number  of  any  programme  which 
is  invariably  and  inevitably  applauded,  and  never, 
under  any  circumstances,  at  any  time,  by  any  per- 
son or  persons  whomsoever,  hissed  or  interrupted. 
Drowned  it  may  be  by  the  volume  and  intensity  of 
applause,  but  woe  to  the  man,  Sicilian  or  foreign- 
er, who  dares  so  much  as  lift  the  corner  of  his 
eyebrow    or    draw   down    the    corner    of  his   mouth 


108  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

during  the  performance  of  the  Sicilian  psalm  of  lib- 
erty ! 

But  to  "Carmen"!  On  the  occasion  of  its  first  rep- 
resentation during  the  season  of  which  we  are  writing, 
the  Politeama  was  packed  from  floor  to  ceiling.  Long 
before  the  orchestra  began  the  overture  it  became  ap- 
parent that  the  audience  was  made  up  of  two  parties. 
What  parties?  Why  two?  What  their  intent,  pur- 
pose, or  sympathies?  Only  the  best-informed  Paler- 
mitan  can  tell,  if  he  can  be  induced  to  speak  at  all 
about  the  matter.  Without  warning,  without  cause, 
so  far  as  the  uninitiated  foreigner  could  discern,  one 
party  broke  into  a  round  of  applause,  clapping  hands, 
shouting,  whistling,  roaring  like  the  waters  of  the  Bay 
of  Palermo  against  the  shores  of  Monte  Pellegrino. 
Equally  without  apparent  cause  the  other  party  began 
to  hiss  and  groan,  to  hoot  and  utter  shrill,  angry  cries. 
During  the  overture  the  demonstrations  and  counter- 
demonstrations  were  repeated  frequently  and  with  in- 
creasing enthusiasm,  followed  by  a  demand  for  the 
repetition  of  the  entire  overture  and  opposing  disturb- 
ances, hissing,  and  cries  of "  Basta !  Basta  !"  An  encore 
was  not  granted,  and  when  the  curtain  went  up  there 
was  a  pandemonium  of  applause,  hisses,  and  groans. 
The  parties  had  changed  sides — those  who  had  hissed 
the  performance  of  the  overture  applauded  the  re- 
fusal to  repeat  it,  those  who  had  demanded  its  rep- 
etition resented  the  denial  of  their  demands.  So 
the  audience  continued  to  rave  and  roar  during  the 
first  part  of  the  evening ;  first  one  party  applaud- 
ed and  the  other  hissed  —  when  the  latter  hissed, 
the  former  applauded ;  at  no  time  was  there  una- 
nimity  of   sentiment    or    concert    of   demonstration, 


AT   THE    OPERA  IO9 

except  during  the  performance  of  the  Garibaldi 
Hymn. 

When  the  curtain  went  up  on  the  first  act,  the 
house  divided  itself  into  two  very  nearly  equal  fac- 
tions, one  of  which,  apparently,  applauded  the  scenery, 
while  the  other  expressed  its  disapproval  of  the  same. 
The  first  notes  of  the  chorus  were  rendered  inaudible 
by  an  outburst  of  hissing.  The  entrance  of  Michae- 
la  was  the  signal  for  "short-winded  accents  of  new 
broils  "  among  the  "  gods."  Jose  was  roundly  hoot- 
ed when  he  came  upon  the  scene.  His  duet  with 
Michaela  did  not  please  many  of  his  auditors,  but  at 
the  end  of  the  third  scene  he  gave  a  cue  and  an  occa- 
sion to  his  partisans,  and  they  overwhelmed  the  hisses 
by  a  short,  decisive,  angry  round  of  applause. 

The  debut  of  Signora  C ,  who  had  come  to  Pa- 
lermo with  the  enthusiastic  endorsement  of  the  mu- 
sical public  of  Milan  and  Florence,  was  made  under 

most  trying  circumstances.     Signora   C is  not  a 

Calve,  but  she  knows  how  to  sing  Carmen,  has  a 
clear,  sweet  voice,  and  acts  with  grace  and  admirable 
discretion.  Nevertheless,  she  had  to  run  the  gantlet  of 
the  yelling  barbarians  in  the  prima  and  seconda  cavea. 
A  cruel  test  it  was  of  her  nerves  and  temper.  She  is 
a  brave  woman,  albeit  slight  and  dainty  of  face  and 
form ;  and  with  a  courage  that  won  for  her  the  admi- 
ration of  the  more  manly  and  gentler  part  of  the 
audience  she  struggled  on  through  the  first  act,  never 
once  sang  false  nor  missed  her  cue.  Partly  because 
she  sang  very  charmingly,  and,  doubtless,  partly  be- 
cause she  was  not  Carmen — probably  for  no  other 
reason  than  the  latter — Michaela  was  the  first  one  of 
the  singers  to  receive  a  round  of  genuine  applause ; 


IIO  PICTURESQUE   SICILY 

but  until  the  close  of  the  first  act  all  the  other  per- 
formers were  treated  with  scant  courtesy — indeed,  that 
is  a  mild  and  timid  phrase — with  downright  churlish- 
ness— by  the  audience,  which  gave  a  painful  exhibition 
of  what  may  be  bluntly  called  "  bad  manners." 

At  the  end  of  the  act  pandemonium  broke  loose 
again.  There  were  applause,  hissing,  whistling,  cat- 
calls, an  undertone  of  roaring,  which  continued  as  long 
as  the  demonstration  lasted.  The  "  implacables " 
seemed  to  "  have  it  " — "  they  had  it  " — there  were  no 
recalls.  Between  the  acts  the  male  occupants  of  the 
parquet  arose,  turned  their  backs  to  the  stage,  lighted 
cigarettes  or  cigars,  and,  puffing  away,  critically  ex- 
amined the  occupants  of  the  posti  distincti  and  of 
the  double  row  of  palchi.  One  of  the  "  gods "  let 
his  hat  fall  into  the  pit,  and  there  were  uproarious 
shouts  of  "  Bis  !  Bis !"  laughter,  and  applause,  that  for 
several  minutes  drowned  the  roar  and  buzz  of  conver- 
sation. There  was  no  smoking  in  the  boxes,  where 
ices,  confetti,  and  liqueurs  were  passed  around  to  such 
persons  and  personages  as  saw  fit  to  order  the  same 
from  the  waiters  of  the  Gaffe  Politeama. 

The  second  act  opened  badly  for  the  singers  and 
those  of  the  audience  who  desired  to  hear  Carmen's 
solo  with  which  the  act  begins.  There  were  disturb- 
ances which  continued  all  through  the  earlier  scenes. 
When  Escamillo  sang  the  great  barytone  aria,  "  Tore- 
ador attento !"  which  Guy  de  Maupassant  heard  so 
vigorously  applauded  in  1890,  the  "  gods  "  hissed  every 
refrain,  and  at  the  end  of  the  number  wildly  hooted 
the  singer  from  the  stage  and  refused  to  allow  him  to 
be  recalled,  as  he  nevertheless  richly  deserved  to  be, 
for  he  sang  well  and  with  fine  expression  and  spirit. 


AT  THE   OPERA  III 

Not  until  Jos6  sang  the  solo,  "  Alto  la,  chi  va  la  ?" 
and  sang  it  well,  taking  the  final  high  note  easily  and 
holding  it  finely,  did  any  one  of  the  artistes  score  a  suc- 
cess with  the  crowd  of  disorderly  critics  in  the  cavea. 
Then,  however,  the  applause  and  cries  of  "Bis!  Bis!" 
were  so  emphatic,  so  fiercely  sustained,  that  Jose  came 
to  the  foot-lights  again  and  again,  smiling,  bowing  his 
acknowledgments. 

Jos6  had  won  his  victory.  He  had  been  encored. 
And  thenceforward  he  had  nothing  to  complain  of  in 
his  treatment  by  the  occupants  of  the  galleries,  who  ap- 
plauded his  every  effort,  encored  all  his  solos.  When 
he  did  not  at  once  heed  their  demand  the  "gods" 
hissed  him  and  kept  up  the  disturbance  until  he  was 
compelled  to  sing  the  number  over  again  in  order  that 
the  rest  of  the  opera  might  be  gone  on  with. 

Carmen  was  now  listened  to  attentively  and  in 
silence.  The  toreador  sang  as  if  he  regarded  the 
raving  of  the  audience  no  more  than  the  bellowing  of 
the  bulls  he  knew  how  to  conquer.  He  maintained  his 
indifference  of  manner,  kept  his  head,  sang  his  best, 
and  developed  a  claque  which  increased  in  numbers 
and  lung  power,  so  that  at  the  end  of  the  act,  after 
Jos£  had  been  recalled  thrice,  and  had  induced  Car- 
men to  advance  to  the  foot-lights  with  him,  but  had 
not  been  able  to  persuade  Escamillo  to  show  himself, 
a  cry  went  up  from  all  over  the  auditorium,  "  Torea- 
dor !  Toreador !"  and  the  toreador  came  forth  bowing 
and  smiling.  Then  the  house  rose  at  him,  cheered 
him,  waved  their  hats  at  him — and  his  troubles  were 
over.  He  had  run  the  gantlet  of  the  Palermitan 
"  gods,"  and  was  enthusiastically  accepted  as  their 
toreador  of  the  day. 


112  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

Carmen  triumphed  in  the  third  act.  She  sang  her 
duet  with  Jose  admirably,  and  acted  with  self-sus- 
tained dramatic  power.  Her  encore,  although  long 
delayed,  was  bravely  won,  and  came  at  the  very  close 
of  the  opera.  But,  when  it  did  come,  there  was  no 
mistaking  the  fact  that  the  brave  little  lady  had  com- 
pelled the  admiration  of  all  claques  and  all  factions  in 
the  audience.  She  was  recalled  again  and  again  ;  and 
as  the  audience  by  this  time  had  roared  itself  into 
good-nature,  every  member  of  the  company  came  in 
for  a  share  of  applause.  Favors  thus  bestowed  can 
hardly  be  said  to  be  worth  struggling  for.  It  must 
have  been  with  much  heart-swelling  and  not  easily 
concealed  contempt  that  Signora  C and  her  fel- 
low-artistes received  the  ovation  that  brought  their 
first  representation  of  "  Carmen  "  in  Palermo  to  a  suc- 
cessful close. 

The  Palermitans,  undoubtedly,  are  lovers  of  music. 
Many  of  them  have  a  delicate  musical  sense,  and  some 
are  instinctively  good  critics ;  but  it  seems  strange 
that  music  awakens  in  the  bosoms  of  the  lower  sort  of 
opera-goers  passions  that  inspire  acts  and  exhibitions 
of  brutality  that  would  do  discredit  to  the  sunny  side 
of  a  Plaza  de  Toros. 

The  opera  in  Palermo  does  not  begin  until  nine 
o'clock,  and  what  with  interruptions,  pauses  in  the 
performance  incident  to  a  first  night,  long  waits  be- 
tween the  acts,  it  was  after  one  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing before  the  large  audience  was  ready  to  disperse. 
In  time,  however,  the  concluding  demonstrations 
came  to  an  end,  the  audience  simmered  down,  and 
the  cries  and  hurrahs  ceased.  The  gas-lights  were 
turned  out  all  over  the  theatre,  hundreds  of  matches 


AT   THE   OPERA  113 

were  struck  preparatory  to  lighting  cigars  and  cigar- 
ettes, and  so  we  moved  out  of  the  theatre  like  an  in- 
cipient torch-light  procession,  and  "  gave  ourselves  to 
the  street  "  roaring  in  chorus  "  Toreador  attento  !" 

We  have  dwelt  at  length  and  particularly  on  the  per- 
formance of  "  Carmen  "  in  the  Politeama  of  Palermo, 
for  the  reason  that  we  believe  that  from  the  study  of 
even  so  light  and  trivial  a  subject  much  knowledge 
may  be  gained  of  the  character  and  propensities,  likes 
and  dislikes,  of  the  Sicilians.  There  is  a  strong  infusion 
of  Spanish  blood  flowing  in  the  veins  of  all  classes  of 
Palermitans ;  therefore,  they  love  "  Carmen  "  and  its 
pictures  of  the  bull-ring,  and  go  wild  with  enthusiasm 
over  the  song  of  the  toreador.  What  other  lessons 
are  to  be  learned  by  those  who  closely  observe  the 
manners  and  customs  of  the  people  we  shall  endeavor 
to  indicate  by  Abraham  Lincoln's  device  of  telling 
"  a  little  story  "  : 

In  the  days  before  "  the  late  unpleasantness  between 
the  North  and  South,"  when  discussions  of  the  slavery 
question  led  to  many  misunderstandings  between  mem- 
bers of  Congress  and  other  citizens  of  the  slave-holding 
republic,  a  certain  grave  and  thoughtful  Dutchman 
was  sent  from  Holland  to  represent  his  country  near 
the  government  of  the  United  States.  On  the  morn- 
ing after  his  arrival,  he  was  seated  at  breakfast  in  a 
Washington  hotel,  when  an  "  elegant  gentleman  "  en- 
tered the  dining-hall,  and,  drawing  his  derringer,  shot 
a  person  seated  at  the  same  table  at  which  the  diplo- 
matist was  solemnly  sipping  his  coffee.  With  that 
marvellous  imperturbability  which  characterizes  his 
race,  the  honest  Dutchman  turned  to  his  companion, 
who  sat  petrified  with  horror  by  the  tragedy  which 


114  PICTURESQUE   SICILY 

had  just  been  enacted,  and  remarked:  "  Sdranch  beo- 
ple,  dose  Amerigans !  If  dey  do  such  dings  for  preak- 
vast,  vot  vill  dey  do  vor  dinner?" 

If  the  Palermitans  behave  in  the  manner  above 
described,  at  the  opera,  what  may  they  not  do  when, 
driven  to  desperation  by  unwise  or  tyrannous  rulers, 
they  risk  their  lives  in  mad  attempts  to  sweep  away 
political  and  social  abuses  which  they  believe  are  the 
prime  causes  of  their  misery  and  discontent? 


XIII 

A   MOUNTAIN  EXCURSION 

The  Alpine  Club  —  Boccadifalco  —  The  Summit  of  Cuccio — 
A  Vision  of  ^Etna — San  Martino — Monreale. 

At  sunrise  on  a  clear  January  morning  twelve 
members  of  the  Alpine  Club  of  Palermo  and  their 
guest  for  the  day,  an  American,  met  outside  of  La 
Porta  Nuova,  one  of  the  picturesque  ancient  gates  of 
Palermo,  dressed  and  provisioned  for  an  excursion 
into  the  mountains.  The  expedition  was  the  first 
business  meeting  of  the  season,  and  the  club  members 
who  intended  to  take  part  in  it  looked  upon  the  pro- 
posed "  giro  "  merely  as  a  preliminary  canter  to  try 
their  hob -nailed  mountain -boots,  take  the  size  of 
their  belts,  and  test  the  spikes  of  their  alpenstocks. 

Promptly  at  the  appointed  hour  the  expedition  took 
its  way  to  the  hills,  from  La  Porta  Nuova  along  II 
Corso  Calatafimi.  The  objective  point  of  three  of  the 
party  is  the  summit  of  Monte  Cuccio,  ten  good  Eng- 
lish miles  from  the  city  gate.  The  other  members  of 
the  club  have  decided  to  attempt  Castellaccio,  and 
the  rendezvous  is  to  be  the  monastery  of  San  Martino 
in  the  valley  between  two  grand  mountains,  the  two 
most  prominent  of  the  peaks  that  rise  from  the  bor- 
der of  II  Conco  d'  Oro.  Turning  into  La  Via  Cappuc- 
cini,  "  the  three,"  crossing  II  Conco  d'  Oro,  proceeded 


Il6  PICTURESQUE   SICILY 

three  miles  and  arrived  at  the  quaint  village  of  Boc- 
cadifalco,  where  their  mountain  climb  really  began. 
Boccadifalco  is  at  the  entrance  to  II  Vallone  di  Para- 
diso.  It  straddles  the  path  leading  up  to  it,  and  the 
stream  which  flows  down  to  II  Conco  d'  Oro  from  the 
valley  above  struggles  fiercely  through  a  narrow,  tort- 
uous gorge,  on  the  edges  of  which  perch  the  houses 
of  the  town.  From  this  very  irregular  array  of  quaint 
old  dwellings,  that  seem  almost  to  totter  on  the  verge 
of  the  ragged  cliffs  between  which  the  Oreto  cleaves  its 
way,  the  town  scrambles  and  tumbles  indiscriminate- 
ly, indescribably,  up  the  front  of  steep  terraces.  In  the 
heart  of  the  town,  where  the  streets  and  by-ways  twist 
and  twine  in  an  almost  inextricable  confusion,  there 
stands  a  little  church — not  mentioned  in  guide-books 
— in  no  way  notable  —  tucked  away  almost  out  of 
sight,  as  if  the  devout  Boccadifalconi  who  worship 
there  were  ashamed  of  it.  Early  mass  was  being 
celebrated  in  the  sanctuary,  of  which  even  the  name 
was  not  to  be  learned,  and  to  say  that  the  build- 
ing was  packed  is  simply  to  ignore  the  fact  that  not 
more  than  two-thirds  of  the  worshippers  were  within 
the  walls  of  the  edifice. 

At  the  upper  end  of  the  town  the  main  street 
wriggles  down  to  a  little  bridge  that  crosses  the 
stream,  and  then  as  steeply  zigzags  up  again,  to  lose 
itself  amid  the  houses  on  the  other  side  of  the  water- 
course, like  a  serpent  slyly  approaching  from  its 
haunts  among  the  rocks  to  cross  the  sunshine  and  as 
swiftly  to  take  refuge  again  in  its  hidden  lairs  and 
lurking-places.  Near  the  bridge,  standing  in  the  bed 
of  the  stream,  and  on  the  bank  of  it,  by  an  open  irri- 
gating-drain  built  of  stone,  there  was  a  busy  and  pict- 


A   MOUNTAIN   EXCURSION  117 

uresque  group  of  women  in  bright  petticoats  with 
small  shawls  pinned,  hood -fashion,  over  their  heads, 
all  engaged  in  washing  garments  once  as  gaudy  as 
dyer's  pot  could  make  them,  now  tattered,  faded, 
patched,  but  nevertheless,  to  the  minds  of  the  own- 
ers, worth  washing  and  patching  again  and  again.  It 
was  an  industrious  assemblage  and  a  merry  one. 
Many  of  the  women  were  young,  well  favored,  and 
lissome ;  those  in  the  stream  were  barefooted,  and, 
although  there  was  a  certain  abandon  in  their  atti- 
tudes, a  frank  and  simple  -  minded  disregard  of  the 
finer  proprieties  regarding  the  happing  and  gathering- 
up  of  skirts  and  philacteries,  Diana  at  her  bath  never 
more  unconsciously  exhibited  her  ungirt  shapeliness 
or  less  designedly  displayed  her  grace  of  limb. 

The  path  of  the  climbers  led  them  from  the  bridge 
along  the  side  of  the  brook,  until  the  town  lay  a 
hundred  yards  behind  ;  then,  turning  to  the  left,  it 
mounted  the  face  of  a  steep  knoll,  from  the  top  of 
which  a  view  of  Monte  Cuccio  broke  upon  the  sight, 
a  vision  of  grandeur  which,  to  those  unaccustomed  to 
Sicilian  scenery,  was  a  spectacle  to  wonder  at,  a  sub- 
ject for  day-dreaming,  a  sight  never  to  fade  from 
the  memory. 

We  stood  in  the  deep  shadows  of  the  lower  valley. 
The  lesser  hills  were  shrouded  in  mysterious  darkness, 
with  which  there  seemed  to  be  blended  dark- green 
and  faintly  glowing  tints,  an  undertone  of  darkest 
blue.  The  narrow  road  up  which  we  climbed  took 
to  itself  a  hue  of  violet  -  gray,  and  the  groves  of 
gnarled  and  knotted  olive-trees  outlined  in  shimmer- 
ing light  seemed  as  if  etched  in  unburnished  steel. 
Before  us,  as  we  looked  up  the  valley,  towering  three 


Il8  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

thousand  six  hundred  feet  into  the  air,  Monte  Cuccio 
uplifted  its  symmetrical,  triangular  peak,  a  stupendous 
mass  of  brilliantly  illuminated  rocks  and  precipices, 
shining  as  rich  and  rare  as  a  pyramid  of  Guinea  gold. 
Near  at  hand,  on  the  valley-side,  under  perpendicular 
cliffs,  where  the  shadows  were  deepest,  were  many 
lime-kilns,  and  through  the  open  mouths  of  their  fur- 
naces there  burst  forth  a  fierce  glow  from  the  fires 
within,  which  lighted  up  the  forms  of  crouching,  busy 
beings  bent  and  doubled  under  enormous  burdens. 
The  chimeras  skulked  out  of  the  surrounding  darkness, 
as  if  they  came  from  the  nether  world,  cast  their 
loads  into  the  glowing  pits,  and  disappeared  into  the 
shadows  again.  In  silence  they  toiled,  like  gnomes, 
like  laboring  cyclops,  weird  and  spectral,  haunting  the 
borders  of  the  night,  feeding  subterranean  fires. 

We  made  haste  to  be  gone  from  the  dark  valley 
into  the  daylight  of  the  mountains,  and,  leaving  the 
imps  of  darkness  flitting  about  their  paling  fires,  we 
pushed  onward  to  the  glory  of  II  Vallone  di  Para- 
diso.  Far  above  in  the  serene  ether,  the  full  moon, 
swinging  majestical,  hung  like  a  bowl  of  silver,  just 
above  the  pinnacle  of  Monte  Cuccio.  The  front  of 
the  mountain,  facing  the  east,  glowed  in  the  light  of 
morning,  while  the  hills  behind  us  still  faintly  reflected 
the  dying  splendor  of  the  moon.  As  we  clambered 
up  the  steep  ascent,  following  a  bridle-track,  we  sud- 
denly passed  into  the  full  glory  of  a  new  day ;  the 
moon  had  dropped  behind  the  peaks  above  us  and 
not  a  shadow  or  thought  of  night  lingered  in  all  the 
land. 

We  now  beheld  with  wonderful  distinctness,  several 
miles  of  our  road  zigzagging  upward  to  the  shoulder 


A    MOUNTAIN   EXCURSION  119 

of  Cuccio,  and  we  braced  ourselves  for  as  stiff  a  bit 
of  scrambling  as  man  or  "  asinello  "  ever  had  cut  out 
for  him.  The  path  became  steeper  and  steeper  and 
more  tortuous  as  we  climbed  higher.  It  also  became 
less  and  less  distinctly  marked.  At  times  we  lost  our 
way,  on  which  occasions  we  left  the  matter  of  finding 
it  again  to  the  instinct  of  our  four-footed  companion, 
and  he  invariably  brought  us  back  into  the  track,  but 
not  until  after  he  had  extended  his  peregrinations  for 
the  purpose  of  nibbling  a  few  of  the  tempting  bunches 
of  grass  that,  on  the  mountain-side,  grew  more  luxu- 
riantly than  in  the  valleys. 

At  last !  Three  hours  after  setting  out  from  La  Porta 
Nuova  we  arrived  at  the  tiny  Alpine  club-house 
perched  on  the  pinnacle  of  Monte  Cuccio.  And  what 
a  view  was  presented  to  our  sight!  The  sky  was 
cloudless;  the  atmosphere,  deprived  of  moisture  by 
recent  rains,  was  as  transparent  as  the  air  on  those 
grand  October  days  that  are  the  glory  of  an  American 
fall. 

Looking  down  from  Monte  Cuccio  towards  the  sea, 
one  beholds  a  wide  extent  of  wonderfully  fertile  valley, 
overgrown  by  almond  orchards  and  plantations  of  the 
fruits  for  which  Sicily,  and  especially  II  Conco  d'  Oro, 
are  famous  all  the  world  over.  For  miles  and  miles, 
in  spring-time,  the  traveller  in  thissheel  of  gold  makes 
his  way  through  an  ocean  of  orange  blossoms  that 
perfume  the  air  with  odors  rivalling  the  spices  of 
Araby  the  Blest.  Orange  blossoms  are  everywhere, 
white  as  snow,  glistening  all  the  whiter  because  they 
shine  amid  deep,  rare  green  foliage.  Amid  the  orange 
and  lemon  plantations  are  pastures,  grain  fields,  and 
gardens,  and  where  the  soil  is  mixed   with  detritus 


120  PICTURESQUE  SICILY 

washed  from  the  hills  terraced  vineyards  give  promise 
of  an  abundance  of  grapes.  A  score  of  towns  and 
villages,  red-tiled  and  white-walled,  appear  here  and 
there,  connected  by  highways  with  each  other  and 
the  mother  city.  These  "  strade  "  wind  through  the 
valley,  dropping  gently  from  the  mountains,  and,  al- 
though apparently  wandering  aimlessly  hither  and 
thither  through  the  land,  are  nevertheless  all  trending 
towards  Palermo,  the  Rome  of  Sicily,  to  which  all 
Sicilian  roads  lead  at  last. 

Turning  from  the  view  of  II  Conco  d'  Oro  and  the 
city  by  the  sea,  facing  the  south  and  east,  a  wonderful 
change  comes  over  the  spirit  of  one's  dream.  Beyond 
the  double  peaks  of  Monte  Pizzuta  and  the  turtle-back 
summit  of  Costa  di  Carponato,  Rocca  Busambra  shows 
its  stupendous  precipices,  extending  for  miles  along 
the  sky-line,  its  sides  all  jointed  and  greaved  like  the 
armor  of  an  armadillo.  The  imagination  easily  recog- 
nizes its  resemblance  to  the  monstrous  shape  of  a  sau- 
rian, showing  its  back,  its  neck,  its  bristling  head  and 
beak  over  the  lesser  hills  ;  these  latter,  all  snow-capped, 
may  be  likened  to  the  foam-strewed  waves  in  which 
the  monster  plays  and  vaunts  its  infinite  strength. 
Beyond  Busambra  the  eye  sweeps  through  a  range  of 
one  hundred  miles  of  sea  and  shore  as  far  as  Cape 
Orlando. 

But  Cape  Orlando  is  not  upon  the  verge  of  vision. 
The  sky  does  not  draw  its  mysterious  curtain  even  at 
that  distance  from  Mon^e  Cuccio.  Beyond  the  far- 
thest range  of  the  Madonian  mountains,  towering 
above  all  other  peaks  and  pinnacles,  there  rises  a 
superb  dome  of  snow,  grandly  uplifting  its  vastness 
to  the  heavens.     It  dominates   the   land    and   looks 


NORMAN  WINDOW.   PALERMO 


A  MOUNTAIN    EXCURSION  121 

down  upon  all  the  coast  of  Sicily ;  it  presides  ma- 
jestically over  the  convocation  of  all  the  lesser  hills 
that  gather  around  it  like  barons  of  a  mighty  king 
kneeling  before  their  lord.  Back  of  the  crests  of  the 
Madonian  mountains  a  sky-line  of  glistening  snow- 
rises,  gradually  and  evenly,  from  both  sides  of  the 
picture  to  a  rounded  cupola,  from  which  there  drifts 
a  feathery  cloud  of  steam.  The  background  of  blue 
sky  throws  this  snowy  eminence  into  high  relief,  and 
all  the  picture  shows  distinctly  in  sunlight,  rare  in 
color,  wonderfully  impressive  in  contour  and  signif- 
icance. The  stranger  needs  no  guide-book  or  well- 
versed  alpinist  to  tell  him  what  vision  rises  before 
him.  For  one  moment  doubting,  then  mastered  by 
a  strange  elation,  he  cried  aloud  "  y£tna!"  and  his  com- 
panions, accustomed  to  the  spectacle,  replied  "  ^Etna!" 
and  leave  him  to  marvel  in  silence. 

Yes,  there  was  ^Etna,  and  in  his  presence  all  the 
mountains  dwindle  to  hills,  and  all  the  hills  to  pleasant 
knolls.  The  eye  noted  nothing  but  the  sky,  the  sea, 
and  JEtna.,  through  leagues  and  leagues  of  thin,  trans- 
lucent air;  so  distant  and  yet  apparently  so  near,  it 
seemed  as  if  one  might  journey  to  its  base  before 
night  had  shut  out  the  view  of  the  everlasting  snow. 
Thereafter,  all  the  glories  of  landscape,  of  mountains 
and  valleys,  and  long  reach  of  coast  seemed  insignif- 
icant and  of  small  import ;  the  eye  lingers  upon  yEtna, 
attracted  resistlessly  to  the  superb  spectacle. 

From  the  summit  of  Cuccio  our  downward  path 
ran  very  appropriately  through  II  Vallone  dell'  In- 
ferno ;  and,  as  the  leader  of  the  expedition,  our  four- 
footed  companion  set  a  rattling  pace,  we  reached  the 
plain  between  Monte  San  Pietro  and  the  farther  hills, 


122  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

where  stands  the  monastery  of  San  Martino,  in  time 
to  keep  tryst  with  the  members  of  the  Alpine  Club, 
who  had  climbed  to  the  Norman  keep  of  Castellaccio. 
Our  meeting  and  our  procession  with  our  friends  to 
the  gates  of  San  Martino  savored  of  the  old,  old 
times.  The  pilgrims  from  Cuccio  had  stopped  at  a 
quaint  hamlet  whereof  every  house  was  a  charming 
study  for  an  artist.  The  ancient  dwellings,  time  and 
weather  stained,  gathered  together  in  a  most  pictur- 
esque group  at  the  bottom  of  a  lovely  glen,  where 
three  or  four  huge  trees  cast  a  ripple  of  shadow  over 
red  tiles  and  white  walls.  It  scarcely  needed  the  in- 
vitation of  bright -eyed  girls  to  induce  us  to  rest 
awhile  and  drink  of  the  crystal  water  that  fell  into  a 
stone  basin  all  overgrown  with  mosses  and  delicate 
ferns.  The  children  and  their  elders  made  a  pretty 
picture,  bright  and  gay  with  many  colors,  which  blend- 
ed charmingly  with  the  greenery  and  gray  of  the  old 
fountain.  Four  venerable  monks  in  brown  gowns  and 
hoods  drew  near  apace  and  joined  the  company,  and 
a  procession  of  young  priests,  headed  by  two  Canons 
of  San  Martino,  came  winding  down  the  valley  and 
approached  the  well.  Presently  there  came  in  sight 
the  party  of  alpinists  from  Castellaccio.  Lastly,  there 
came  two  fair  ladies  who  had  walked  all  the  way  from 
La  Porta  Nuova,  and  who,  presently,  merrily  protested 
that  they  were  not  footsore  or  weary  in  the  least. 
This  goodly  array  of  pilgrims  took  up  its  march  along 
the  valley  to  the  monastery  gates,  and,  as  they  went, 
discoursed  of  their  adventures  during  the  morning. 
The  monks  and  gowned  priests  bore  them  company, 
and  the  asses  followed,  urged  on  by  their  drivers,  at 
whose   heels   ran  the  children,  marvelling   to   see  so 


A   MOUNTAIN    EXCURSION  1 23 

many  travellers  on  the  road  to  old  San  Martino.  In 
such  order  we  came  to  the  great  gates,  which  were 
thrown  open  to  receive  us  as  the  clock  struck  two. 

After  a  short  halt,  the  pilgrims  again  set  out  on 
their  different  journeys.  The  three  from  Cuccio  fol- 
lowed the  road  which  leads  from  II  Vallone  di  Para- 
diso  over  the  hills  to  the  town  of  Monreale,  where 
William  the  Good  built  his  wonderful  cathedral.  We 
passed  the  foot  of  the  great  hill  on  which  stands  Cas- 
tellaccio,  the  walls  and  towers  of  which  still  remain, 
although  much  weakened  by  the  weight  of  centuries, 
and  crumbling  into  ruin.  Where  our  road  began  to 
descend  into  the  valley  of  the  Oreto  we  had  a  grand 
view  of  Monreale,  its  cloisters  and  cathedral,  but  we 
could  spare  only  a  few  moments  to  sit  on  an  old 
stone  settle  where  the  monks  of  San  Martino,  many 
years  ago,  before  their  monastery  was  turned  into  an 
"agricultural  colony,"  were  wont  to  sit  and  watch 
the  shadows  chase  the  sunlight  across  the  lovely 
valley. 

From  the  abbot's  seat  to  Monreale  was  a  short 
twenty-minutes'  walk,  and  we  arrived  at  the  cathe- 
dral door  in  time  to  enter  that  superb  edifice  and 
catch  a  glimpse  of  all  its  splendors  lighted  by  the  rays 
of  the  setting  sun.  Surely  the  gold  and  rich  mosaics 
of  that  interior  never  showed  more  magnificently  than 
they  did  on  that  fine  winter  evening.  In  the  Cathe- 
dral of  Monreale  all  that  the  brain  of  man  could  de- 
vise, all  that  the  hand  of  man  could  create,  has  been 
realized  to  beautify  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  world 
of  art.  Nevertheless,  while  standing  in  the  irised 
light  of  the  grand  choir,  looking  at  the  jewelled  walls, 
at  the  gold,  the   marble,  the  jasper,  the  lapis  lazuli, 


124  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

teased  out  of  thought  by  all  the  dainty  loveliness  of 
the  place,  we  remembered  the  glory  of  the  snow- 
capped dome  of  ^Etna,  marvellous  in  sunlight,  and 
the  painfully  wrought  earthly  splendor  of  Monreale 
faded  away  as  the  soul  recalled  the  words,  "  What 
is  man  that  Thou  art  mindful  of  him?" 


XIV 

SOLUNTO 

Winter  Scenes — Blossoms  and  Snow-flakes— Bagheria — An- 
cient Solous — A  Carthaginian  Town — Men  in  Sheepskins 
— A  Shipwreck. 

AFTER  waiting  for  several  days  for  clear  weather, 
wearying  at  our  confinement  within  doors,  we  wel- 
comed a  sudden  outburst  of  mellow  light  as  the  sun 
was  rising  one  chilly  morning,  and,  making  ourselves 
believe  that  we  were  to  have  a  fine  day,  ordered  a 
vettura  to  be  ready  in  half  an  hour. 

As  we  started  on  our  excursion  to  ancient  Solous,  a 
twelve-mile  drive  along  the  shore  of  II  Conco  d'  Oro 
from  Palermo  to  Bagheria  and  Cape  ZafTarano,  the 
clouds  settled  down  again  and  it  began  snowing.  It 
might  snow  all  day — it  might  clear.  We  took  the 
benefit  of  the  doubt.  If  it  cleared,  well  and  good.  If 
it  continued  to  snow,  we  should  see  many  sights  and 
have  many  experiences  not  obtainable  when  the  sun 
was  shining.  Our  "  vetturino,"  to  whom  the  weather 
was  a  matter  of  small  importance,  was  willing  to  con- 
tinue the  journey. 

"  Non  fa  multo  freddo  !"  Were  not  the  Americans 
accustomed  to  snow  ? 

The  Americans  had  seen  snow  before. 

"  Va  bene.     Avanti !" 


126  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

In  some  respects  the  drive  of  twenty-four  miles  to 
Bagheria  and  back  was  one  of  the  most  interesting  it 
was  our  fortune  to  take  during  our  stay  in  Sicily. 
We  entered  into  the  spirit  of  it,  and  our  hearts  were 
cheered  by  the  merry  jingle  of  the  Russian  sleigh- 
bells  attached  to  the  trappings  of  our  three  horses 
harnessed  abreast.  The  bells  gave  out  a  pleasant 
sound,  which  seemed  appropriate  to  the  snow-storm, 
and,  although  our  vettura  was  on  wheels,  it  required 
but  little  effort  of  the  imagination  to  fancy  we  were 
actually  sleighing  in  a  country  where  a  sleigh  would 
be  as  great  a  curiosity  as  a  date-palm  growing  in  the 
open  air  in  winter-time  would  be  to  the  inhabitants 
of  our  native  New  York. 

Presently  the  sleet  turned  to  hail,  which  beat  mer- 
cilessly upon  beasts  and  men  and  so  astounded  the 
asses  plodding  along  the  road,  drawing  heavily  laden 
carts  through  the  mud  and  snow,  that  they  stopped 
and,  refusing  to  budge,  stood  shaking  their  heads  and 
wagging  their  ears,  which  were  strangely  tickled  and 
stung  by  the  pelting  hailstones.  For  a  moment  or 
two  it  seemed  as  if,  after  all,  we  should  have  to  give 
up  our  expedition  and  return  to  our  fireside  in  the 
hotel.  We  called  to  our  vetturino,  telling  him  to  turn 
back  if  his  heart  failed  him,  but  he  bravely  shouted, 
"  Niente!"  and,  cracking  his  whip,  set  his  horses  in  a 
gallop.  The  highway  was  crowded  by  all  kinds  of 
vehicles  driven  by  men  in  sheepskin  overcoats  and 
trousers;  weird  shapes  they  represented — rustic  fauns 
of  winter,  brown  and  white  bears.  No  doubt  they 
were  comfortable;  and,  certainly,  unless  so  clothed  it 
would  have  been  better  for  them  not  to  have  vent- 
ured out-of-doors  on  so  inclement  a  day.     When  the 


SOLUNTO  127 

hailstorm  passed  the  sunlight  fell  on  Cape  Zaffarano, 
far  ahead  of  us,  and  turned  it  into  silver ;  over  the 
mountains,  beyond  II  Conco  d'  Oro,  dense  black  clouds 
hung  low,  now  hiding,  now  revealing,  many  snow 
peaks.  There  was  a  strange,  unearthly  white  light 
over  the  sea,  and  from  moment  to  moment,  when 
the  sun  broke  through  rifts  in  the  clouds,  the  waters 
gleamed  with  all  the  colors  of  a  dying  dolphin.  We 
passed  droves  of  pigs,  flocks  of  goats  and  sheep,  all  of 
them  bewildered  by  the  unaccustomed  spectacle  of 
snow,  and  long  rows  of  carts  filled  with  skins  of  wine, 
heaps  of  lemons  and  oranges,  in  transit  to  the  store- 
houses on  La  Via  Borgo.  Most  unseasonable  did  the 
sunny  fruit,  partly  concealed  by  snow,  seem  to  us. 
When  we  reached  the  country  beyond  the  custom- 
house at  the  borders  of  the  town,  we  were  interested 
by  the  weird  incongruity  of  things  in  the  vegetable 
world.  The  apple  and  pear  trees  were  lifeless,  but 
there  were  oranges  and  lemons  hanging  ripe  amid 
dark  green  leaves  ;  the  plum-trees  (carrubi)  were  in 
full  blossom,  and  apparently  none  the  worse  for  the 
hail  and  snow.  The  olive-groves  were  gray  and  fruit- 
less, but  in  many  fields  there  were  long  rows  of  pea- 
vines  covered  with  white  flowers  which  at  first  we 
mistook  for  snow-flakes.  The  pomegranates  and  fig- 
trees  showed  never  a  sign  of  flower  or  fruit,  and  the 
date-palms  stood  stark  and  stiff  in  the  bitter  cold. 
In  one  garden  we  saw  a  woman  (an  odd  figure  in  a 
sheepskin  coat)  picking  strawberries.  It  was  curious 
to  mark  the  surprise  of  children  when  they  beheld  the 
snow ;  they  seemed  not  to  know  what  use  to  make  of 
it,  did  not  play  in  it  and  with  it,  as  children  at  home 
would  be  likely  to  do,  but  cuddled  together  in  groups, 


128  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

under  the  eaves  of  the  houses,  with  their  little  coats 
and  "cappas"  happed  close  around  them,  or  toddled 
fearsomely  about  like  the  sparrows,  with  ruffled  plu- 
mage, that  chirped  piteously  as  they  hopped  about  in 
vain  search  for  food. 

The  rivers  we  crossed,  beginning  with  the  Oreto, 
which  flows  close  to  the  city  wall,  were  swollen  by 
the  rain  and  melting  snow,  and  came  seething  down 
from  the  hills,  crossed  the  plain  in  tawny  floods  that 
overflowed  their  banks,  and  deposited  clay  and  gravel 
wide  upon  the  meadows  and  plantations. 

After  a  journey  of  two  hours  we  came  to  the  office 
of  "  The  Custodian  of  the  Antiquities  of  Solunto." 
There  we  left  our  carriage  and  proceeded  on  foot,  not 
an  easy  or  pleasant  excursion,  for  the  snow  had  turned 
into  rain,  the  roads  were  miry,  and  the  wind  was  blow- 
ing a  gale.  We  crossed  a  garden,  and,  taking  a  lane 
through  an  orchard  of  plum-trees,  began  the  ascent  of 
a  steep  and  stony  road  that  led  us  in  half  an  hour  to 
the  ruins  of  the  city  we  had  set  out  to  visit.  Near 
the  top  of  the  easternmost  summit  of  Monte  Catalfano 
we  found  traces  of  the  ancient  city  called  "  Solous,"  or 
"  Soloes,"  by  the  Greeks,  "  Soluntum  "  by  the  Romans, 
"  Solunto  "  by  the  men  of  to-day.  It  was  originally  a 
Phoenician  town,  one  of  the  three  settlements  which 
remained  to  the  traders  from  Tyre  and  Sidon  when 
they  were  driven  by  the  invading  Greeks,  in  the 
seventh  century  B.C.,  from  all  other  places  in  eastern 
and  central  Sicily.  In  the  day  of  its  prosperity  the 
walls  of  Solous  were  two  miles  in  circumference,  and 
it  was  the  most  important  outpost  of  the  Phoenicians 
against  the  Greeks,  who  possessed  the  land  to  the 
eastward,  having  their  outpost  at  Thermae   Himeren- 


SOLUNTO  129 

sis.  Unlike  many  other  Phoenician  cities,  Solous  was 
seated  on  a  hill  near  the  sea,  and  not  on  the  sea-shore. 
The  site  of  this  ancient  town  was  forsaken  by  its 
founders,  and  the  ruins  discoverable  to-day  are  not  of 
Phoenician  origin,  but  date  from  Roman  times.  His- 
tory is  strangely  silent  concerning  Solunto.  We  know 
that  Pyrrhus  of  Epirus  captured  it ;  that  after  the 
taking  of  Panormus  by  Metellus  the  citizens  of  So- 
lous threw  off  the  yoke  of  the  Carthaginians  and  in- 
vited the  Romans  to  lord  it  over  them.  "Thus,"  says 
the  historian  Freeman,  "  was  the  great  Semitic  city 
of  Sicily  for  the  second  time  won  for  Europe.  The 
Greek  under  Pyrrhus  had  made  his  way  in  for  a 
moment ;  the  Roman  was  to  keep  his  hold  abid- 
ingly." 

Ages  ago  the  very  existence  of  Solous  seems  to 
have  been  forgotten,  all  vestige  of  it  had  disappeared, 
and  not  until  1825  was  it  possible  to  ascertain  pre- 
cisely the  site  of  the  ancient  Phoenician  metropolis ; 
moreover,  it  was  a  peasant,  not  an  archaeologist,  who 
brought  to  light  a  colossal  statue  of  Jupiter  and  a 
curious  statuette  of  Isis,  which  bore  witness  that  Ro- 
man and  Egyptian  gods  had  usurped  the  honor  for- 
merly paid  to  Ashtoreth  and  Baal.  Little  remains 
above  ground  of  the  Roman  town  that  replaced  the 
older  settlement,  but  the  traveller  to-day  climbs  the 
ancient  paved  causeway,  and,  entering  the  limits  of 
the  city,  marks  the  streets  running  at  right  angles  be- 
tween the  foundations  of  rows  of  houses  lately  ex- 
cavated and  barely  showing  above  the  surface  of  the 
ground.  A  part  of  the  colonnade  of  a  house  which 
attracts  attention  was  re-erected  but  a  few  years  ago, 
and,  although  it  makes  a  picturesque  feature  of  the 
9 


130  PICTURESQUE   SICILY 

landscape,  it  seems  to  intrude  itself  upon  the  utter 
desolation  of  the  scene  where 

".  .  .  self-slain  on  his  own  strange  altar, 
Death  lies  dead." 

On  the  day  of  which  we  are  writing,  during  our 
short  stay  at  Solunto,  it  rained  as  if  the  fountains  of 
the  great  deep  had  been  broken  up,  as  in  the  days  of 
Noah,  or,  to  use  an  illustration  more  in  keeping  with 
our  classic  surroundings,  as  it  rained  in  the  days  of 
Deucalion.  Seeking  refuge  from  the  storm,  we  took 
shelter  in  the  lee  of  the  portico  of  the  restored  house, 
where  we  found  three  goat-herds  cowering,  chilled  to 
the  bone,  their  teeth  chattering  and  their  sheepskin 
coats  soaking,  dripping  wet.  Nevertheless,  they  greet- 
ed us  pleasantly,  and  one  of  them  politely  inquired 
what  I  Signori  were  doing  on  the  mountains  on  such 
a  day.  We  felt  some  embarrassment  in  answering  his 
inquiry.  To  explain  that  we  were  sight-seeing  on  such 
a  day,  in  such  weather,  and  in  such  a  storm-swept  lo- 
cality, seemed  to  us  to  be  equivalent  to  making  an 
admission  that  if  we  were  not  indeed  bereft  of  com- 
mon-sense, we  were,  at  least,  somewhat  fanatical  in 
our  pursuit  of  archaeological  knowledge.  We  were 
further  embarrassed  by  our  ignorance  of  the  Sicilian 
dialect,  so  we  limited  ourselves  to  the  words  of  the 
inquiry  :  "  Piovera  questa  sera  ?"  The  three  goat- 
herds nodded  their  heads  violently,  and  our  interlocu- 
tor, casting  an  eye  to  windward,  confidently  asserted 
that  it  would  rain  abundantly  that  evening,  if  it  did 
not  snow ;  that  it  would  certainly  rain  to-morrow,  and 
probably  would  not  clear  for  several  days. 

In  default   of   a   greater   command   of  words  with 


SOLUNTO  I 3 I 

which  to  continue  the  conversation,  we  presented  our 
three  storm -bound  companions  with  a  cigar  apiece, 
which  they  concealed  within  their  sheepskin  cover- 
ings, remarking,  presumably,  that  they  would  smoke 
them  after  dinner.  And  there  we  stood,  they  in  their 
sheepskins,  we  in  our  mackintoshes,  eying  one  an- 
other curiously,  all  anxious  to  talk  ;  they  to  question 
the  "  forestieri,"  we  to  catechise  the  strange  denizens 
of  a  country  that  was  little  like  any  other  region  we 
had  yet  visited  in  all  our  wanderings.  However,  they 
were  good-natured  fellows,  and,  although  free  and  famil- 
iar in  manner,  exhibited  a  certain  courtesy  and  rough 
politeness  that  inspired  confidence  that  at  least  they 
were  not  brigands.  In  their  sheepskins  they  looked 
like  bears,  but  they  were  good  -  natured  beasts,  and 
when  we  turned  to  go,  one  after  the  other,  they  ex- 
tended their  great,  rough,  dripping  paws  to  us,  and, 
bending,  made  as  if  they  would  kiss  the  hands  of  the 
strangers  as  they  bade  us  farewell. 

As  we  made  our  way  down  the  hill,  we  passed  a 
very  ancient  sacrificial  table,  a  rude  slab  of  rock  on 
two  upright  blocks,  the  sides  of  which  were  carved 
curiously.  The  whole  structure  was  placed  on  a  base 
of  rough  masonry.  Upon  this  altar  in  old  times 
priests  sacrificed,  probably  to  Poseidon,  beseeching 
him  to  reward  the  labors  of  the  fishermen,  who,  in  an- 
cient times,  as  to-day,  at  all  seasons  of  the  year  put 
out  from  this  shore  to  cast  their  nets  in  the  wide  bay 
which  extends  from  Cape  Zaffarano  to  the  square 
head  of  Cefalu,  thirty-five  or  forty  miles  distant  in  the 
east.  That  the  altar  was  sacred  to  Poseidon  there 
seems  to  be  little  doubt.  He  was  the  protector  of 
the  ancient  city,  as  we  know  from  coins  of  Solous  pre- 


132  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

served  in  the  Museum  of  Palermo,  on  which  are 
stamped  the  head  of  the  sea-god,  surrounded  by  in- 
scriptions in  Greek  or  Punic  characters. 

In  fair  weather  the  view  from  the  heights  of  Solunto 
is  indescribably  grand,  as  we  could  readily  imagine. 
Storming,  as  it  was  on  the  day  of  our  visit,  we  never- 
theless, from  time  to  time,  caught  magnificent  pros- 
pects of  the  Madonian  mountains,  and  down  below  us 
we  beheld  the  sea,  lashed  by  the  tempest  into  glisten- 
ing foam,  a  deserted  waste,  for  on  all  the  expanse 
of  it  there  was  not  one  vessel,  large  or  small,  in 
sight. 

Unhappy,  thrice  unhappy,  were  the  mariners  who 
must  needs  sail  the  seas  on  that  fearful  day — a  day 
that  will  long  be  known  to  the  fishermen  of  Cape 
Zaffarano  as  "  The  Day  of  the  Shipwreck  "  ;  for,  as  we 
learned  on  our  return  to  Palermo  at  an  early  hour 
that  very  morning,  a  large  bark,  which  at  sunrise 
found  herself  in  the  bight  of  the  Bay  of  Termini  dan- 
gerously close  to  the  shore,  in  attempting  to  weather 
Cape  Zaffarano  was  swamped  by  tremendous  seas  and 
foundered  off  the  point  of  the  headland,  carrying 
down  with  her  a  crew  of  seven  men,  whom  brave  fish- 
ermen struggled  in  vain  to  save,  risking  their  lives  in 
an  impossible  attempt  to  reach  the  sinking  vessel. 

When  we  at  last  arrived  at  the  office  of  the  guar- 
dian of  the  antiquities  of  Solunto,  we  were  as  dripping 
wet  as  our  friends  the  goat-herds,  whom  we  had  left 
on  the  mountain-top,  and  who  had  been  out  for  days 
in  the  constant  storm.  Nevertheless,  we  soon  forgot 
our  discomfort,  for  we  were  made  welcome  to  seats  by 
the  fireside  in  the  snug  office  of  the  custode,  where, 
with   his  permission,  we   satisfied   our  vast  appetites 


SOLUNTO  133 

with  the  contents  of  the  lunch-basket  we  had  brought 
from  Palermo. 

Our  host  offered  us  a  dish  of  "  pasta  con  pomidoro," 
which  we  knew  better  than  to  refuse.  We  found  it 
exceedingly  appetizing,  prepared  as  only  Sicilians 
know  how  to  prepare  macaroni  with  tomato  sauce, 
and  we  can  well  imagine  that  those  who  can  afford  to 
have  it  on  their  tables  constantly  become  as  fond  of 
it  as  the  Scotchman  of  his  porridge,  the  Englishman 
of  his  Yorkshire  pudding,  or  the  Yankee  of  his  pork 
and  beans. 

Bidding  our  kind  entertainer  good-bye,  we  entered 
our  vettura,  in  which  we  found,  placed  there  by  our 
thoughtful  vetturino,  who  was  ever  solicitous  for  our 
comfort  and  welfare,  half  a  dozen  hot-water  bottles, 
which  gave  us  no  inconsiderable  relief  from  the  pinch- 
ing of  wet  and  frosted  feet.  Having  fortified  our 
Jehu  with  a  glass  of  Marsala  to  enable  him  to  resist 
the  cold,  we  started  through  the  storm,  and  without 
further  adventure  arrived  early  in  the  afternoon  at 
the  Hotel  des  Palmes.  Over  a  blazing  fire,  in  the 
comfort  of  our  own  apartment,  we  dozed  and  dream- 
ed and  fought  over  again  our  battles  with  Sicilian 
snow-storms  and  gales,  such  as  terrified  the  hearts 
of  the  crew  of  the  pious  ^Eneas  what  time  he  passed 
along  the  coast  of  Sicily  during  that  tempestuous 
winter  which — who  knows  how  many  centuries  ago  ? — 

"...  saw  the  Trojan  fleet  dispersed,  distressed, 
By  stormy  winds  and  wintery  heaven  oppressed." 


XV 

PIANA  DEI   GRECI 

A  Mysterious  Hill  Town — Spectral  Trees — Parco — "  La  Scala 
Santa  " — A  Dreary  Ride  through  a  Lone  Land — An  Alba- 
nian Colony — Greek  Churches — Picturesque  Costumes — 
Curious  Customs — Weddings  "  to  Order." 

We  had  heard  much  of  a  mysterious  town  situated 
far  up  in  the  mountains,  about  sixteen  miles  from  Pa- 
lermo, Piana  dei  Greci  by  name,  and  we  had  been  told 
that  the  best  day  to  visit  it — in  fact,  the  only  time 
when  we  could  see  it  at  its  best — was  on  Sunday  or  a 
feast-day,  when  the  people  dressed  themselves  in  the 
costumes  of  their  Albanian  forefathers  and  attended 
services  where  they  worshipped  according  to  the  rites 
of  the  Greek  Orthodox  Church. 

We  consulted  with  our  faithful  vetturino,  and,  while 
he  carefully  refrained  from  prophesying  fine  weather 
for  our  proposed  excursion,  he  ingeniously  suggested 
that  it  was  possible  we  might  wait  a  fortnight,  a 
month — until  spring,  for  that  matter — without  finding 
a  day  when  the  weather  would  be  perfectly  to  our 
liking. 

"Why  delay?"  he  asked.  "It  cannot  storm  worse 
than  it  did  when  the  Americans  made  their  trip  to 
Solunto,  and  I  Signori  enjoyed  that  adventure." 

We  were  obliged  to  confess  that  the  trip  in  question 


PIANA  DEI   GRECI  1 35 

had  not  been  without  its  attractions ;  moreover,  we  had 
seen  his  horses,  and  did  not  doubt  that  the  three 
sturdy  beasts  could  make  the  little  journey  of  thirty- 
six  miles  if  the  start  were  made  in  the  early  morning. 
As  for  the  vetturino  himself,  he  would  be  proud  to 
drive  the  Americans  anywhere,  be  the  day  fair  or  foul. 
The  strangers  must  not  think  of  leaving  Sicily  without 
seeing  Piana  dei  Greci. 

The  strangers  had  no  idea  of  missing  any  opportu- 
nity to  see  any  of  the  interesting  places  in  the  island. 

"  Va  bene.     Avanti !" 

"  Avanti !"  was  a  favorite  word  with  our  vetturino  ; 
there  was  something  inspiring  in  the  ring  of  his  voice 
as  he  pronounced  it.  His  cheery  manner  and  snapping 
eyes  encouraged  one  to  believe  that  come  what  might, 
surmounting  all  obstacles,  he  would  conduct  his  pa- 
trons in  safety  and  insure  them  an  interesting  and  in- 
structive outing.  Accordingly  we  ordered  our  lunches 
to  be  ready  when  the  vettura  came  for  us,  and  so,  well 
provisioned  and  provided  with  rugs  and  wraps,  we  set 
out  on  our  journey  to  the  mysterious  town  "  over  the 
hills  and  far  away." 

The  weather  was  cold,  it  threatened  snow,  but  from 
time  to  time  the  sunlight  broke  through  grand  masses 
of  clouds  and  flooded  the  world  with  dazzling  white 
light.  We  left  the  city  by  La  Porta  San  Antonio, 
crossed  the  Oreto,  and  took  a  road  leading  inland  along 
the  foot-hills  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  valley,  keeping 
Monte  Grifone  on  our  left  hand.  Six  miles  from  Pa- 
lermo we  came  to  the  town  of  Parco,  where  William 
II.  had  a  hunting  park  and  lodge,  on  the  east  side  of 
the  Oreto,  over  against  Monreale,  but  farther  up  the 
valley  and  seated  higher  up  the  mountain  slopes.     We 


136  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

had  ascended  many  hundred  feet  since  leaving  the 
sea-shore,  and  the  temperature  had  fallen  considerably 
below  the  freezing-point.  As  we  left  Parco  and  as- 
cended into  the  heart  of  the  mountains,  a  snow-squall 
swept  down  upon  us,  the  wind  whistled  shrilly,  and 
the  air  became  bitterly  cold.  We  entered  a  savage 
country,  beyond  all  imagination  desolate  and  bleak. 
We  met  strange,  uncouth-looking  men  clad  in  sheep- 
skins, anxiously  hurrying  their  flocks  of  goats  and 
sheep  down  from  the  mountain -passes,  for  already 
there  was  half  an  inch  of  snow  upon  the  road  and  all 
the  hills  were  white  and  spectral.  Nevertheless,  along 
the  roadside  were  purple  irises  in  full  bloom,  and 
daisies,  and  in  the  clefts  of  the  rocks  ferns  and  ivy 
and  jacks-in-the-pulpit,  sweet  alyssum,  white  ranuncu- 
lus, yellow  buttercups,  and,  in  strange  contrast  to  the 
drifting  snow,  heather  in  full  bloom,  such  as  ones  sees 
on  the  Grampians  and  Cumberland  hills  in  September. 
Bleaker  and  more  barren  did  the  land  become  as 
we  ventured  farther  and  farther  into  the  mountains ; 
when  we  reached  the  upper  table -lands  there  was 
three  inches  of  snow  upon  our  road,  and  the  bad 
weather  threatened  to  be  worse  for  hours  before  it 
began  to  mend.  We  crossed  a  dreary  moorland,  as 
desolate  as  the  Doone  Valley,  in  Devonshire ;  every- 
where the  natural  rock  was  tossed  about  in  weird  con- 
fusion— giant  blocks  standing  on  end  and  piled  one 
upon  the  other;  huge  cromlechs  they  looked  like, 
enormous  monuments  recalling  the  structures  of  the 
Druids  and  the  race  of  Titans.  But  all  this  waste 
land  among  the  bowlders  and  broken  reefs,  so  far  as 
we  could  distinguish  for  the  snow,  had  been  tilled  and 
cultivated  with  the  greatest  care. 


INTERIOR   OF   CEFAL&   CATHEDRAL 


PIANA   DEI   GRECI  1 37 

Four  hours  after  leaving  Palermo  we  arrived  at 
Piana  dei  Greci,  a  town  of  about  seven  thousand  in- 
habitants, the  largest  of  the  Albanian  cities  in  Sicily. 

When  the  Byzantine  Empire  fell  under  the  domin- 
ion of  the  Mussulmans,  Albania  alone,  inspired  by  the 
ardent  patriotism  of  Scanderbeg,  continued  for  some 
years  to  offer  effectual  resistance  to  the  power  of  her 
enemies.  In  1488  a.d.,  overcome  by  overwhelming 
numbers,  the  Albanians  resolved  to  abandon  their  un- 
happy country,  at  no  matter  what  sacrifice  of  worldly 
goods,  rather  than  submit  to  the  oppression  of  their 
conquerors.  Ferdinand  of  Aragon,  King  of  Naples, 
received  the  Albanian  ambassadors  and  showed  them 
favor,  and  granted  to  their  nation  the  privilege  of 
founding  in  Sicily  four  colonies  of  exiled  people,  who 
crossed  the  seas,  as  did  the  later  Pilgrim  Fathers, 
seeking  "  freedom  to  worship  God  "  and  liberty  to 
manage  their  temporal  affairs.  Certain  of  these  exiles 
settled  in  Sicily,  at  Piana  dei  Greci,  Palazzo  Adriano, 
Contessa,  and  at  Mezzojuso.  There  these  brave  people 
made  homes  for  themselves,  and  in  the  lonely  valleys 
where  they  built  their  cities  their  descendants  have 
continued  to  dwell,  cherishing  the  traditions  of  an  an- 
cient race,  preserving  the  manners  and  customs  and 
regulating  their  living  according  to  the  habits  and 
laws  of  their  ancestors. 

The  people  who  were  willing  to  exile  themselves 
rather  than  resign  the  right  of  worshipping  God  in 
their  own  way  did  not  change  their  religious  beliefs 
nor  adopt  new  ideas,  but  insisted  upon  having,  and 
obtained,  the  right  to  practise  the  ordinances  of  re- 
ligion according  to  the  ritual  of  the  Orthodox  Greek 
Church.     They  did,  indeed,  consent   to  acknowledge 


138  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

the  spiritual  supremacy  of  the  Holy  Father  at  Rome, 
but  in  all  other  things  maintained  their  independence, 
especially  in  matters  ecclesiastical.  Therefore  there 
are  to  be  found  to-day  in  the  heart  of  even  so  devout 
a  Catholic  country  as  Sicily  communities  of  people 
who  enjoy  a  religious  liberty  which  secures  to  them 
their  right  to  believe  in  many  things  that  are  utterly 
at  variance  with  the  creed  of  the  Church  of  Rome. 
The  priests,  who  neither  shave  their  beards  nor  use  the 
tonsure,  are  permitted  to  marry — a  privilege  of  which 
they  generally  avail  themselves — and  they  live  with 
their  wives  and  children  in  parsonages,  and  enjoy 
the  friendship,  consideration,  and  confidence  of  their 
parishioners. 

For  many  years  Piana  dei  Greci  was  represented  in 
the  Italian  Parliament  by  Signor  Francesco  Crispi,  a 
native  of  the  town.  When  it  is  remembered  that 
Signor  Crispi's  predecessor  and  successor  in  office, 
Marquis  di  Rudini,  is  also  a  Sicilian,  it  will  be  under- 
stood why  Sicily  plays  no  small  part  in  the  drama  of 
Italian  politics. 

•  When  we  entered  Piana  dei  Greci  the  main  street 
was  crowded  by  people  hurrying  to  services  about  to 
begin  in  all  the  churches.  We  made  our  way  to  the 
centre  of  the  town,  where,  around  a  small  fountain, 
was  a  crowd  of  women  and  young  girls,  dressed  in  gala 
costumes  at  once  striking  and  original.  Most  inter- 
esting we  found  them,  when  we  remembered  that 
they  were  of  the  fashion  which  prevailed  in  far-off 
Albania  late  in  the  fifteenth  century.  The  dress  con- 
sists of  a  woollen  petticoat  and  a  bodice  made  of 
black  or  dark-colored  silk,  embroidered  and  otherwise 
adorned.     Some  of  the  women,  in  lieu  of  hoods,  wear 


PIANA  DEI   GRECI  1 39 

bright  neckerchiefs,  which  they  fasten  under  their 
chins,  allowing  the  borders  to  hang  down  over  their 
shoulders.  Others  wear  curious  blue  "  nun's-bonnets," 
with  deep  capes.  All  were  very  neat  and  picturesque 
in  their  costumes  of  time-honored  fashion.  On  great 
occasions,  at  christenings  and  weddings,  many  of  the 
better  class  of  women  array  themselves  in  silken 
gowns  and  vests  embroidered  in  gold,  with  short, 
bright-colored  sleeves  similarly  embellished,  their  arms 
covered  with  white  muslin  trimmed  with  lace.  Others 
use  corsages — always,  be  it  understood,  silk  and  gold 
embroidered  —  and  chemises  garnished  with  lace  and 
many -colored  silken  bows,  and  tie  their  hair  with 
gay  ribbons,  and  wear,  hanging  down  their  backs, 
a  "  schepi,"  or  veil.  A  "  chezza,"  or  coif,  heavy  with 
gold  thread,  is  the  distinctive  head-dress  of  a  bride  on 
her  wedding-day.  Around  their  waists  they  clasp  a 
"  brejo,"  or  belt,  with  massive  silver  buckles  engraved 
and  gilt.  Sometimes  these  buckles  are  of  great  value, 
not  only  on  account  of  the  weight  of  metal  used  in 
making  them,  but  because  of  the  curious  and  artistic 
repousse  work,  representing  the  Virgin  or  San  Nicolo 
(the  patron  saints  of  the  Albanian  colonies),  or  St. 
George,  or  La  Madonna  d'  Odigitria,  the  protectress  of 
the  town. 

We  followed  a  crowd  of  worshippers  into  one  of  the 
churches,  where  we  were  much  interested  in  watching 
ceremonies  that  differed  materially  from  the  ritual  of 
the  Roman  Catholic  Church.  The  grand  altar  stood 
out  from  the  wall  of  the  apse,  and  the  minister  placed 
himself  on  the  farther  side  of  it,  facing  the  people. 
At  that  part  of  the  mass  when  the  "  divine  miracle  of 
transubstantiation  takes  place,"  the  priest,  confront- 


140  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

ing  the  audience,  raised  his  right  hand  with  two  fin- 
gers extended,  and  stood  in  the  attitude  in  which 
Byzantine  artists  were  wont  to  depict  Christ  in  the 
act  of  blessing.  Immediately  chimes  were  set  loudly 
ringing  in  different  parts  of  the  church,  and  a  man 
stationed  on  the  front  porch  beat  upon  a  drum,  while 
the  bells  in  the  tower  of  the  church  were  tolled 
clangorously.  Men,  women,  and  children  made  haste 
to  enter  the  church,  which  in  a  few  moments  was 
packed  to  suffocation.  When  all  the  congregation 
had  been  gathered  in,  the  drum  ceased  beating,  the 
bells  were  silent,  and  the  priest,  taking  the  sacred 
chalice  in  his  hands,  marched  down  the  middle  aisle, 
followed  by  his  assistants  and  the  choristers  ;  and,  as 
he  came,  all  the  worshippers  fell  upon  their  knees  and 
devoutly  offered  up  petitions  to  the  Father  of  All.  It 
was  a  strange  sight,  all  the  stranger  when  the  ob- 
servances and  ceremonies  were  compared  with  those 
we  had  witnessed  the  Sunday  before  in  the  great 
cathedral  at  Monreale. 

After  service  we  spent  an  hour  or  two  sauntering 
about  the  town,  visiting  its  churches,  which  we  found 
to  be  uninteresting,  decorated  with  tawdry  pictures 
and  cheap  gilt  bric-a-brac  ;  there  was  nothing  in  any 
of  them  worth  study  or  examination.  It  was  a  cold 
December  day ;  little  was  to  be  seen  of  the  people, 
who  wrapped  themselves  closely  in  their  capes,  and 
the  doors  of  the  houses  were  kept  closed.  Only  the 
better  class  of  dwellings  had  panes  of  glass  in  their 
windows,  and  we  saw  not  one  vestige  or  suggestion 
of  household  comfort,  as  that  word  is  understood  in 
America  and  northern  Europe.  No  arrangements  are 
made  to  keep  the  houses  warm  or  dry.     There  are  no 


PIANA  DEI  GRECI  141 

fireplaces,  and,  as  we  have  said,  glass  is  but  little  used. 
The  homes  of  the  poor  of  this  mountain  city  are  bare, 
cheerless,  dark,  and  dirty  dens,  in  which  prosperous 
farmers  in  America  would  not  think  of  stabling  their 
horses  and  cows.  Strange  to  say,  the  children  run- 
ning about  the  streets  looked  healthy ;  they  had  rud- 
dy cheeks  and  did  not  remind  us  of  the  emaciated 
babies  and  little  ones  we  had  seen  in  other  towns. 
There  was  a  general  aspect  and  flavor  of  poverty  and 
wretchedness  about  the  place.  The  men  were  sullen 
in  manner,  and  went  about  as  if  heavy  of  heart.  The 
women,  even  those  dressed  in  their  Sunday  costumes, 
looked  sad  and  careworn.  The  atmosphere  of  the 
place  was  depressing.  One  was  conscious  of  the  prev- 
alence of  a  general  sentiment  of  discontent,  of  in- 
articulate resentment  against  the  imagined  authors  of 
the  misery,  the  oppressors  of  poverty-stricken,  hope- 
less humanity.  The  snow  fell  almost  constantly,  the 
wind  swept  over  the  mountain-top  and  drove  the  mist 
through  the  narrow  streets  ;  therefore,  long  before  our 
vetturino  had  made  ready  to  set  out  on  the  homeward 
journey  we  had  wearied  of  sight-seeing  and  longed  to 
be  gone  from  the  town,  the  short  list  of  whose  attrac- 
tions we  had  exhausted. 

We  did  not  know,  until  our  return  to  Palermo,  that 
had  we  applied  to  the  proper  person  in  authority  we 
could  have  had  arranged  for  us,  with  little  trouble 
and  delay,  a  marriage  service.  We  regretted  that  we 
had  not  told  the  proprietor  of  the  H6tel  des  Palmes 
of  our  intention  to  visit  Piana  dei  Greci. 

"  Had  you  told  me  you  expected  to  be  in  Piana  dei 
Greci,  I  should  have  telephoned  to  the  sindaco,  and 
he  would  have  arranged  for  a  marriage  ceremony  to 


142  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

be  held  in  the  church ;  then  you  would  have  seen 
something  to  repay  you  for  your  trouble  in  taking  so 
long  a  ride  on  so  inclement  a  day." 

"  Do  they  keep  engaged  couples  in  Piana  dei  Greci, 
so  that  marriages  can  be  celebrated  for  the  entertain- 
ment of  travellers?"  we  wonderingly  inquired.  Our 
host  made  answer: 

"  I  suppose  very  often  couples  who  cannot  make 
up  their  minds  to  go  to  church  to  have  the  knot 
tied  fast  by  the  priest  are  influenced  by  the  fact  that 
guests  of  my  hotel  are  willing  to  pay  a  small  fee  to 
the  clergyman  and  give  something  to  the  bride  and 
groom  to  enable  them  to  set  up  their  own  household 
gods."  Truly,  the  misery  of  the  people  of  this  moun- 
tain town  must  be  great  when,  for  a  small  fee,  young 
men  and  maidens  are  willing  to  assume  the  cares  and 
responsibilities  of  married  life. 


XVI 

ALONG  THE  NORTH   SHORE 

The  Coast-line — The  Madonian  Mountains — La  Mafia— Ter- 
mini— Himera — The  Sacrifice  of  Hamilcar — "  The  Happy 
Fields  " — Cefalu. 

THERE  are  some  things  that  are^worth  doing  for 
themselves  alone.  The  railway  journey  from  Palermo 
eastward  to  Cefalu,  a  distance  of  forty  miles  along 
the  northern  shore  of  Sicily,  is  worth  taking  if  for  no 
other  reason  than  to  obtain  the  magnificent  views 
into  valleys  opening  to  the  south  of  the  railway, 
which  give  one  some  idea,  at  least,  of  the  grandeur  of 
the  Madonian  mountains.  The  line  skirts  the  Tyr- 
rhenian Sea.  Indescribably  fine  are  the  prospects  of 
wide  bays  embraced  by  promontories  towering  from 
the  water,  of  long,  sweeping  beaches  and  broad  mead- 
ow-lands, of  crags  crowned  with  quaint  ruins  of  cas- 
tles and  watch-towers.  Down  by  the  shore  are  towns, 
strangely  mediaeval  in  appearance,  little  cities  whose 
history  goes  back  to  the  age  of  fable ;  fields  and  the 
banks  of  streams  where  battles  were  fought  between 
Greeks  and  Carthaginians ;  headlands  that  have  given 
their  names  to  naval  combats,  fought  when  conquer- 
ing Romans  made  good  their  boast  to  rule  the  waves. 

Through  this  country  we  journeyed  one  winter's 
morning,  having  taken  our  departure  from  Palermo  an 


144  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

hour  before  sunrise.  When  day  broke  we  were  at 
Bagheria,  anciently  called  Vaccaria,  settled  ages  ago 
by  prisoners  escaped  from  the  galleys ;  therefore  we 
may  well  believe  that  in  some  sort  the  old  town  de- 
served its  bad  repute.  It  was  alleged  to  have  been  a 
place  where  murders  were  frequent  and  where  the  peo- 
ple, easily  stirred  to  violence,  constantly  engaged  in 
political,  religious,  and  private  feuds.  Be  this  as  it 
may,  until  the  middle  of  this  century  Bagheria  was 
none  the  less  the  favorite  resort  of  Sicilian  noblemen, 
many  of  whom  built  palaces  and  resided  there  during 
the  summer  months. 

Beyond  Bagheria  we  crossed  the  highest  point  of 
the  isthmus  which  connects  Cape  Catalfano  with  the 
mainland,  and  caught  a  backward  glimpse  of  Palermo 
and  Monte  Pellegrino,  barely  discernible  in  the  shadows 
of  night.  Before  us  we  beheld  the  beautiful  Bay  of 
Termini,  the  surface  of  which  reflected  the  deep  crim- 
son of  the  clouds,  foretelling  the  rising  sun.  It  was  a 
frosty  morning,  the  air  exhilarating,  the  atmosphere 
transparent,  although  in  the  zenith  and  towards  the 
west  the  heavens  were  hidden  by  an  unbroken  canopy 
of  clouds.  We  could  see  distinctly  for  immense  dis- 
tances ;  the  blackness  of  the  clouds  served  to  intensify 
the  colored  light  which  illumined  sea  and  land.  All 
the  atmospheric  effects,  the  exceeding  darkness  of  shad- 
ows, the  marvellous  brilliancy  of  bands  and  rays  of 
light  that  shot  across  the  sky,  were  startling  in  their 
intensity.  As  the  sun  arose  the  sea  became  radiant, 
iridescent,  and  on  shore  the  spectacle  was  no  less  won- 
derful. Every  mountain,  rock,  grove,  orchard,  seemed 
to  hold  dormant  light,  inexhaustible  stores  of  color, 
that  awaited  but  the  magic  touch  of  the  sun  to  awaken 


AN   ANCIENT   WELL 


ALONG  THE  NORTH  SHORE         1 45 

in  wonderful  illumination.  It  was  a  marvellous  spec- 
tacle of  a  new  day  dawning  upon  a  fair  world.  On  a 
height  overlooking  the  plain  and  the  sea /we  beheld 
the  ruins  of  Casteldaccia,  an  old  Norman  fortress ; 
and  on  all  the  headlands  square,  battlemented  watch- 
towers,  picturesque  and  legend  -  inspiring  reminders 
of  the  day  when  the  pirate  Barbarossa  and  other 
"  water-rats  "  infested  the  Sicilian  main. 

Near  Trabia,  a  station  we  had  passed  after  leaving 
Altavilla,  a  most  extraordinary  murder  was  committed 
a  few  years  ago  in  a  first-class  carriage,  while  the  train 
to  Palermo  was  in  motion  between  the  two  towns. 
That  an  ex-mayor  of  Palermo  was  assassinated  there 
can  be  no  doubt,  for  his  body  was  found  in  the  com- 
partment, literally  hacked  to  pieces  with  twenty-three 
wounds.  He  was  director  of  the  Banca  Siciliana,  but 
he  was  not  known  to  be  in  the  habit  of  carrying  large 
sums  of  money  on  his  person  ;  he  was  a  politician,  but 
was  not  a  man  who  made  personal  enemies  while  in 
office  nor  during  the  contests  incident  to  his  elections. 
No  cause  has  ever  been  assigned  for  the  murder,  no 
theory  has  ever  been  established  which  reasonably  ac- 
counts for  the  crime.  His  body  was  not  robbed ;  his 
purse  and  watch  were  found  upon  him.  There  were 
abundant  evidences  that  the  victim  did  not  give  up 
his  life  without  a  terrible  struggle  in  self-defence; 
but  to  this  day  the  criminal  or  criminals,  whoever 
they  may  have  been,  remain  undetected.  In  default 
of  all  explanations  of  the  crime,  people  dismissed  the 
subject  from  consideration,  and,  when  spoken  to,  mys- 
teriously shrugged  the  shoulders,  or  whispered  the 
portentous  word  "  Mafia."  Such  crimes,  committed 
almost    under   the   nose   of  the   police,  undoubtedly 


I46  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

strengthen  the  grip  La  Mafia  holds  upon  the  imag- 
ination of  timorous  citizens  in  Sicily ;  and  yet,  when 
you  ask  them  "What  is  this  Mafia?"  they  glance 
uneasily  over  the  left  shoulder,  raise  the  eyebrows, 
and  change  the  subject  of  conversation.* 

Twenty-three  miles  from  Palermo  we  came  to  Ter- 
mini, a  town  of  twenty -four  thousand  inhabitants, 
which  occupies  the  site  of  Thermae  Himerensis,  the 
hot-springs  of  Himera,  fabled  to  have  been  shown  by 
the  nymphs  to  Hercules,  who  bathed  and  refreshed 
himself  here  after  his  wrestling  bout  with  Eryx.  For 
many  years  Himera  on  the  north  and  Selinus  on 
the  south  coast  of  Sicily  were  the  outposts  of  the 
Greeks,  who  ceaselessly  contended  with  the  Cartha- 
ginians and  their  Elymian  allies  for  the  possession  of 
the  western  third  of  the  island.  In  480  B.C.  Hamil- 
car,  one  of  the  Shophetim  of  Carthage,  landed  at  Pa- 
normus,  and,  having  marched  his  army  to  Himera, 
pitched  two  camps,  one  close  to  the  sea,  the  other 
on  the  hill  above  the  town.  On  a  day  "  commonly 
said  to  have  been  the  same  as  that  of  the  Battle  of 
Salamis  in  old  Greece,"  f  the  Sicilian  generals  Theron 
and  Gelon  utterly  destroyed  the  expedition  of  Hamil- 
car.  According  to  the  tradition  current  at  Carthage, 
which  we  may  read  in  Herodotus,  Hamilcar  stood  on 
the  top  of  a  hill  all  day  long,  apart  from  the  battle, 
as  did  Moses  when  Israel  overcame  the  hosts  of  Ama- 
lek.  In  vain  Hamilcar  sacrificed  to  his  gods.  At  even- 
ing, seeing  his  army  cut  to  pieces,  he  threw  himself,  as 
a  supreme  sacrifice,  into  the  fire  upon  the  altar.     By 


For  account  of  La  Mafia,  see  Appendix, 
f  E.  A.  Freeman.     Sicily. 


ALONG  THE  NORTH  SHORE         147 

this  victory  at  Himera,  Sicily  was  saved  from  the  Car- 
thaginian invader,  as  by  the  triumph  of  the  Greek 
navy  at  Salamis  old  Greece  was  saved  from  the  Per- 
sians. 

Very  interesting  in  many  ways  is  Termini,  the  old 
seaport  town,  notable  as  the  birthplace  of  Agathocles, 
the  bloodiest  of  Sicilian  tyrants.  As  one  wanders 
about  its  streets,  here  and  there  are  to  be  discovered 
hints  and  reminders  of  many  different  epochs  of  its 
long  history :  a  fragment  of  a  Corinthian  cornice  em- 
bedded in  the  wall  of  La  Chiesa  Matrice;  curious 
frescos  and  inscriptions  in  Santa  Catarina,  which  also 
has  a  pointed  arched  doorway ;  San  Jacopo  exhibits 
a  very  ancient  campanile,  and  on  the  walls  of  San 
Francesco,  an  old  and  venerable  edifice,  there  are 
patches  of  curious  stone-carving.  In  the  museum  is 
a  marble  torso  said  to  be  part  of  a  statue  of  Sthenius, 
who  was  immortalized  by  Cicero  for  his  patriotic  and 
successful  opposition  to  the  extortions  and  rapacity 
of  Verres.  But  there  is  really  little  left  of  the  old 
town :  a  few  fragments  of  mosaic  pavements ;  the 
foundations  of  a  Roman  basilica  and  amphitheatre  have 
been  found  by  excavating  in  its  suburbs ;  and  there 
are  to  be  seen  vestiges  of  the  Aqua  Cornelia,  an  aque- 
duct that  brought  abundant  supplies  of  water  to  the 
town  in  Roman  times  and  for  many  centuries  there- 
after. Time  and  weather  have  dealt  hardly  with  Ter- 
mini, and  little  remains  to  it  of  its  former  wealth,  ex- 
cept the  pure  water  of  its  springs,  the  use  of  which, 
it  is  said,  gives  a  delicate  flavor  to  the  macaroni  for 
which  this  town  is  celebrated. 

The  railway  runs  east  from  Termini,  crossing  broad 
meadow-lands,  and  at  six  miles  passes  a  solitary  farm 


148  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

on  the  west  bank,  and  near  the  mouth  of  II  Fiume 
Grande.  It  marks  the  site  of  ancient  Himera,  "  the 
far -ruling  city,"  as  Pindar  calls  the  metropolis  of 
which  Termini  was  a  colony  and  the  outpost  in  Greek 
and  Carthaginian  times.  An  olive -orchard  covers  a 
lofty  mound  where  Hamilcar  sacrificed  in  vain  to 
Baal,  while  his  soldiers  warred  with  the  conquering 
Greeks  on  the  plain  below.  On  that  same  height 
Hannibal  Giskon,  the  destroyer  of  Selinus,  sacrificed 
three  thousand  of  the  male  inhabitants  of  Himera,  to 
avenge  the  disgrace  and  death  of  his  grandfather, 
Hamilcar. 

Crossing  II  Fiume  Grande  the  railway  passes  through 
vast  fields  of  artichokes  and  plantations  of  sumach. 
For  hundreds  of  yards  along  the  side  of  the  railway 
grow  hedges  of  geranium;  and,  although  there  is  snow 
on  all  the  mountains,  and  some  patches  of  it  on  the 
lowlands  by  the  sea-shore,  masses  of  scarlet  blossoms 
gleam  in  the  sunshine,  a  delight  to  the  eye,  that  also 
finds  much  delectable  food  in  the  light  green  of 
the  leaves,  which  contrasts  pleasantly  with  the  sombre 
shades  of  genesta  and  fantastic  prickly-pear. 

Campofelice  gives  the  name  "  Happy  Fields"  to  wide 
downs  stretching  between  the  Madonian  mountains 
and  the  sea,  and  the  view  up  the  valley  of  II  Fiume 
Grande  discloses  fertile  hill-sides  and  intervales,  above 
which  tower  Monte  San  Salvatore  and  Pizzo  Antenna, 
both  of  them  over  six  thousand  feet  in  height,  the 
latter  the  loftiest  peak  of  the  range.  On  Gibelmanna 
are  groves  of  "  frassino,"  the  manna -tree,  relics  of 
Saracen  times,  for  the  Moslems  introduced  them  into 
Sicily  from  Africa,  where  trees  transplanted  from 
Arabia  flourished  and  multiplied  under  the  care  of 


ALONG   THE   NORTH    SHORE  1 49 

Arab  husbandmen.  Another  reminder  of  Arab  days 
are  the  irrigating  wells,  from  which  water  is  raised  by 
an  endless  series  of  buckets,  operated  by  means  of 
clumsy  wooden  machinery,  mostly  Oriental,  Asiatic, 
certainly  not  European  in  appearance,  but  pictur- 
esque, as  commonplace  things  are  likely  to  be  when 
ancient,  moss-grown,  festooned  with  vines,  and  decked 
with  flowers. 

From  the  crest  of  the  isthmus  connecting  the  moun- 
tains with  a  lofty  promontory,  on  which  are  the  ruins 
of  a  watch-tower  ornamented  with  arabesques  and 
Moorish  windows,  we  caught  sight  of  "  The  Head- 
land "  (Kephale),  so  called  by  the  Greeks,  who  named 
the  town  which  lies  under  its  cliffs  Cephalaedium — 
Cefalu  of  to-day.  The  headland  rises  from  the  sea 
in  terraces  to  a  broad  platform,  on  which  are  the 
ruins  of  a  mighty  castle  which  has  never  yet  been 
taken  by  sea  attack  or  land  assault.  Close  against  the 
cliffs  an  old  cathedral  lifts  its  twin  towers,  and  the 
houses  of  Cefalu  gather  around  it  like  sheep  about 
their  shepherd.  The  town  stands  with  its  back 
against  the  wall  of  rock,  and  many  a  desperate  fight 
has  it  made  in  the  tumultuous  old  times  against  the 
fleets  of  all  comers.  A  very  strong  fortress  and  a 
sure  refuge  was  the  old  castle  ;  and  so  Cefalu  remains 
to-day  to  tell  its  story,  while  others  of  the  sea-coast 
towns  of  Sicily  —  Selinus,  Naxos,  Solous,  and  many 
more — are  but  heaps  of  crumbling  ruins,  hidden  be- 
neath dunes  of  shifting  sand. 

With  Cefalu  in  sight  we  cross  meadows  and  planta- 
tions, from  which  green  slopes  strewn  with  monster 
bowlders  rise  gently  to  broken  cliffs  overgrown  with 
ivy,  aloes,  and  cacti,  along  the  sea- face  of  which  ex- 


150  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

tends  a  row  of  white  villas,  shaded  by  cypresses,  ilex, 
and  date-palms.  Wondering  at  everything,  charmed 
by  every  prospect,  we  arrived  at  the  end  of  our  win- 
ter morning's  pilgrimage,  and  in  the  early  forenoon  of 
a  day  in  mid-winter  alighted  from  the  train  at  a  pretty 
station,  where  morning-glories,  geraniums,  heliotropes, 
roses,  and  marigolds  were  blooming,  reckless  of  the 
snow-flakes  —  Danae's  "Shower  of  Gold" — that  fell 
across  bands  and  streamers  of  sunlight  breaking 
through  rifts  in  the  heavy  clouds. 


XVII 

CEFALIT 

An  Ancient  Sicel  Town — Roger  II. — His  Escape  from  Ship- 
wreck— Cefalu  Cathedral — The  Norman  Bishop's  Church — 
Its  Rich  Adornments — "  The  Finest  Mosaics  in  the  World." 

An  ancient  Sicel  town  once  occupied  the  site  of 
Cefalu,  the  summit  of  the  high  rock  that  overhangs 
the  sea.  There  are  Sicel  remains  to  be  seen  in  the 
town  and  the  foundations  of  the  Sicel  walls  that  for- 
merly joined  the  city  to  its  harbor  defences.  But 
Cephalaedium  was  a  small  place  in  Grecian  times ; 
Diodorus  says  it  was  only  a  castle,  and  in  his  time  a 
dependency  of  Himera.  Little  or  nothing  is  known 
of  its  history  until  369  B.C.,  when  Dionysius  capt- 
ured it  from  the  Carthaginians.  In  307  B.C.  Agathoc- 
les  occupied  it.  During  the  First  Punic  War  the 
Romans  were  unable  to  reduce  it,  although  they  sent 
against  it  a  fleet  numbering  two  hundred  and  fifty 
vessels.  The  Saracens  took  possession  of  it  in  858 
A.D.  These  bare  facts  contain  nearly  all  the  informa- 
tion we  have  concerning  Cefalu  previous  to  the  con- 
quest of  Sicily  by  the  Normans. 

In  the  summer  of  11 29  A.D.  (not  in  1105  A.D.,  nor 
yet  in  1131  A.D.,  as  is  variously  seated  by  different 
authorities),  Cefalu  suddenly  became  famous.  King 
Roger  II.,  on  his  return  from  Naples  to  Palermo,  be- 


152  PICTURESQUE  SICILY 

ing  overtaken  by  a  fearful  storm,  was  in  danger  of 
perishing  by  shipwreck.  He  vowed  if  he  were  brought 
in  safety  to  land  he  would  erect  a  cathedral  to  the 
honor  of  Christ  and  the  Apostles  on  the  spot  where  he 
first  set  his  foot  on  shore.  His  admiral  succeeded  in 
making  the  harbor  of  Cefalu,  where  King  Roger  dis- 
embarked, beneath  the  western  cliffs  of  the  headland, 
and  there  he  founded  a  church,  which  he  dedicated 
to  "  St.  George  the  Apostle."  So  good  a  knight  as 
Roger  may  well  be  excused  for  numbering  the  doughty 
champion  of  Christendom  among  the  Apostles.  The 
Church  of  St.  George,  falling  into  ruin,  was  rebuilt 
by  citizens  and  renamed  San  Leonardo.  Two  years 
later,  mindful  of  his  vow  still  unfulfilled,  Roger  began 
the  erection  of  a  cathedral,  undoubtedly  the  most 
magnificent  sanctuary  that  had  been  built  in  Sicily 
since  the  days  when  Greek  architects  reared  the 
beautiful  Doric  temples  at  Segesta,  Acragas,  and  in 
other  parts  of  the  island. 

Around  the  wonderful  cathedral,  during  its  con- 
struction and  when  it  was  finished,  there  grew  up  a 
flourishing  town,  a  favorite  resort  of  the  Norman 
kings  and  of  great  church  dignitaries.  For  many 
years  the  see  of  Cefalu  took  precedence  of  all  other 
Sicilian  ecclesiastical  establishments,  until  the  time 
of  William  the  Good,  when  the  see  of  Monreale  was 
created  and  its  archbishop  endowed  with  superior 
dignities. 

The  cathedral  stands  with  its  back  to  the  rock  of 
Cefalu,  on  a  platform  approached  by  a  pyramidal 
flight  of  twenty  steps.  The  edifice  assumes  gigantic 
proportions  if  compared  with  the  relatively  low  houses 
of  the  city.     It  dominates  the  surrounding  scene,  and 


± :  ■- 


»J■AJlL^^■K»ii»^X^>it,  ' 


SICILIAN   PEASANTS 


CEFALU  153 

the  beholder  is  at  once  impressed  by  the  fact  that  the 
town  was  built  for  the  cathedral — not  the  cathedral 
for  the  town.  Like  that  of  Monreale,  the  Cathedral 
of  Cefalu  is  in  the  form  of  a  Latin  cross,  perfect  and 
complete  in  all  its  principal  parts.  Like  Monreale,  it 
has  a  nave,  side  aisles,  and  transepts,  and  three  apses  at 
the  east  end.  At  the  corners  of  an  imposing  facade 
stand  two  square  towers,  four  stories  in  height,  sur- 
mounted by  square  cupolas  with  high,  peaked  roofs. 
The  west  front  is  exceedingly  plain,  and  consists  of  a 
portico  between  the  two  towers,  the  upper  parts  of 
which  are  ornamented  with  a  series  of  interlacing 
arches  with  chevron  mouldings.  Cefalu  Cathedral  is 
the  most  interesting,  historically,  of  all  the  churches 
in  the  island;  it  is  the  earliest  of  Norman -Sicilian 
churches,  and  was  closely  copied  by  the  architects 
who  designed  the  basilicas  erected  later  at  Monreale 
and  elsewhere. 

As  one  enters  the  church  he  is  impressed  by  the 
grandeur  and  solemnity  of  its  interior,  due  to  its  noble 
proportions  and  the  grace  of  the  stilted  and  pointed 
arches  that  spring  grandly  from  the  walls  and  col- 
umns. The  pointed  vaulting  of  the  nave  and  aisles  is 
supported  by  fifteen  columns  of  granite  and  one  of 
cipollino,  with  graceful  capitals,  that  were  undoubted- 
ly brought  from  some  pre-existing  Greek  building  to 
decorate  the  interior  of  this  graceful  church.  The 
interior  is  somewhat  sombre  in  character,  for  only  the 
walls  of  the  chancel  and  apse  are  incrusted  with  mo- 
saics. As  in  Monreale,  La  Martorana,  and  La  Pala- 
tina,  the  central  apse  contains  a  half-length  colossal 
figure  of  Christ,  clothed  in  a  mantle  of  blue  with  a 
tunic  of  gold— Christ,  the  Priest,  the  King,  the  Master 


154  PICTURESQUE  SICILY 

of  the  World,  who  raises  His  hand  to  bless ;  the  Light 
of  the  World,  the  God  of  a  triumphant  race,  the  Pro- 
tector of  warrior  kings.  In  His  left  hand  He  holds 
an  open  book,  on  the  pages  of  which  are  the  words 
"  Ego  Sum  Lux  Mundi."  The  space  between  the 
dome  of  the  apse  and  the  wainscoting  of  white  mar- 
ble that  surrounds  the  choir  is  entirely  filled  with  mo- 
saics divided  into  three  zones.  In  the  centre  of  the 
highest  zone,  that  below  "  The  Christ,"  is  a  colossal 
full-length  figure  of  the  Virgin,  and  standing  on  her 
right  and  left  hand  are  four  archangels  with  out- 
stretched wings,  wonderful  figures,  draped  in  dalmatics 
richly  embellished  with  precious  stones.  Immediately 
below  these  are  ten  Apostles,  and  the  two  Evangelists 
St.  Mark  and  St.  Luke.  The  walls  at  the  side  of  the 
apse  are  incrusted  in  four  zones  corresponding  with 
those  of  the  hemicycle.  The  highest  zone,  on  the 
gospel  side,  contains  representations  of  Melchisedec 
and  certain  prophets,  and  below  these  again  are  eight 
saints.  On  the  epistle  side,  Abraham,  David,  Solo- 
mon, and  seven  of  the  prophets  appear,  and  below 
them  eight  other  saints. 

The  greater  part  of  the  mosaics  in  Cefalu  Cathedral 
belong  to  an  earlier  period  than  those  in  Monreale. 
Professor  Bonanno  Zuccaro,  who  is  charged  by  the 
Ministry  of  Public  Instruction  with  the  care  of  the 
mosaics  at  Cefalu  and  other  churches  in  Sicily,  is  our 
authority  for  the  statement  that  the  mosaics  in  ques- 
tion are  in  a  better  state  of  preservation,  as  they  are 
of  a  higher  class  of  work,  than  the  best  specimens  to 
be  found  elsewhere,  not  even  excepting  those  in  La 
Martorana,  La  Palatina,  or  in  St.  Mark's  in  Venice,  or 
in  II  Battistero  degli  Ortodossi  in  Ravenna. 


CEFALU  155 

Travellers  who  have  seen  only  the  mosaics  in  St. 
Peter's  and  elsewhere  in  Rome  can  form  no  concep- 
tion of  the  wonderful  results  to  be  achieved  by  artists 
who  not  only  knew  how  to  design,  but  also  were  able 
to  realize  their  ideas  of  interior  decoration  when  ac- 
tually working  at  what  is  to-day  a  lost  art,  for  just  as 
the  Gobelins  tapestries  of  to-day  offend  against  one's 
idea  of  what  should  be  and  should  not  be  attempted 
by  workers  in  woollen  threads,  so  do  the  mosaics  of  St. 
Peter's,  for  instance,  violate  the  canons  of  mosaic  art. 
Like  the  present  -  day  tapestries,  the  mosaics  in  St. 
Peter's  are  bad  imitations  of  oil  paintings.  They  cer- 
tainly are  not  mosaics  in  the  art-meaning  of  the  term. 
Those  who  have  not  beheld  the  pictorial  mosaics  of 
Sicily,  of  Cefalu  in  particular,  can  form  no  idea  of  the 
artistic  beauty  and  perfection  of  workmanship  attained 
by  the  unknown  artists  who  embellished  the  churches 
and  palaces  of  King  Roger  II.  and  his  art -loving 
descendants. 

The  nave  and  aisles  of  the  cathedral  are  unem- 
bellished,  the  walls  are  bare,  flat  surfaces  of  white 
plaster,  and  where  the  latter  has  fallen  the  rough 
stones  are  exposed  to  view,  but  the  vast  expanse  of 
the  interior,  its  fine  lines  and  proportions,  lend  a  dig- 
nity and  grace  that  cause  one  to  forget  the  nakedness 
and  lack  of  superficial. ornaments.  It  is  impossible  to 
describe  all  the  beauties  of  this  magnificent  edifice, 
the  cathedral  in  which  King  Roger  intended  his  body 
should  rest  after  death.  He  caused  to  be  prepared, 
during  his  lifetime,  two  porphyry  sarcophagi  for  him- 
self and  his  queen,  but  when  he  died,  in  1 1 54  A.D., 
the  disconsolate  Palermitans  declared  that  "  so  good, 
so  dear,  so  great  a  king,  so  glorious  a  warrior,  so  wise 


156  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

a  statesman,"  would  find  a  more  appropriate  resting- 
place  in  the  capital  city  of  the  kingdom  he  had  carved 
out  for  himself  with  his  sword,  amid  the  people  whose 
good  fortune  it  was  to  have  been  conquered  by  "  Rog- 
er the  Magnanimous."  And  so  King  Roger  sleeps  in 
the  Cathedral  of  Palermo,  which  his  grandson,  William 
the  Good,  dedicated  to  the  Holy  Virgin. 


XVIII 

RAMBLES  ABOUT  CEFALU 

La  Porta  Garibaldis— La  Via  Liberta— Cloisters  of  Cefalu— A 
Cefalu  "Trattoria" — Along  the  Water-front — Diana  and 
Actaeon — "  II  Trovatore." 

We  had  entered  Cefalu  by  La  Porta  Garibaldi.  In 
what  town  of  Sicily  is  there  not  a  Porta  or  a  Via 
named  after  the  popular  idol,  who,  whatever  may  be 
said  of  the  rites  celebrated  in  the  churches,  is  indeed 
worshipped  in  spirit  and  in  truth  by  Sicilians  of  all 
kinds  and  conditions? 

From  La  Porta  Garibaldi,  La  Via  Liberta  leads  to 
II  Corso  Ruggiero,  where  we  found  a  "  trattoria,"  which 
we  entered,  intending  to  break  our  fast.  Only  a  very 
hungry  traveller  will  be  nerved  to  attempt  the  bills  of 
fare  of  any  "  ristorante  "  in  Cefalu.  We  ventured  to  or- 
der coffee,  "  pasta  con  pomidoro,"  a  "  pasticcio,"  and 
"  pastelli."  In  a  country  where  a  very  bad  imita- 
tion of  Mocha  costs  at  least  three  and  a  half  lire 
(about  seventy  cents  American  money)  a  pound,  one 
must  not  hope  to  regale  oneself  royally  with  "  demi- 
tasses  "  of  a  concoction  that  is  coffee  in  nothing  but 
color.  The  pasta  was  good  ;  the  pastry  was  we  know 
not  what,  for  when  our  hostess's  back  was  turned  we 
gave  it  to  two  shivering  boys  who  stood  at  the  door 
of  the  trattoria  chanting  "  Muore   di  fame,  signori." 


158  PICTURESQUE   SICILY 

On  the  walls  of  the  trattoria  were  two  flaming-colored 
posters.  We  had  seen  their  like  before  in  America — 
gaudy  chromo- lithographs,  one  of  a  popular  variety- 
actress,  well  known  to  the  frequenters  of  the  concert- 
saloons  and  summer  gardens  of  the  American  metropo- 
lis, and  one  of  the  race  for  the  Brooklyn  Handicap  at 
the  spring  meeting  at  Sheepshead  Bay.  It  was  star- 
tling to  come  upon  two  such  reminders  of  joyous  life  in 
the  New  World — America,  of  which  the  average  Sicil- 
ian has  such  strange  and  untaught  ideas,  believing,  for 
instance,  that  because  we  came  from  New  York  we 
must  needs  know  husbands,  brothers,  or  sons,  as  the 
case  might  be,  who,  since  their  departure  for  Buenos 
Ayres  or  Valparaiso,  had  forgotten  to  write  home  to 
their  wives,  sisters,  or  mothers,  who  inquired  of  us 
about  their  kin  beyond  the  sea.  Sometimes  the  eager 
questioner  could  not  keep  back  tears  when  we  gently 
told  them  we  had  no  knowledge  of  those  for  whom 
they  so  anxiously  inquired. 

La  padronessa  of  the  trattoria  had  a  brother  in 
Baltimore  engaged  in  the  fruit  business.  Thinking 
that  his  sister,  who  was  "  molto  intelligenta,"  would 
be  pleased  to  see  the  portrait  of  a  typical  "Ameri- 
cana," and  interested  in  forming  an  idea  of  American 
scenery,  he  had  sent  the  "two  chromo-lithographs  to 
her,  and  a  letter  in  which  he  stated  that  he  was  well 
acquainted  with  "  la  signora,"  and  diligently  patron- 
ized the  race-track,  the  like  of  which  was  not  to  be 
seen  in  his  native  Sicily,  and  where  he  sold  many 
oranges  to  "  Americani  ricchi." 

From  La  Piazza  del  Duomo  we  descended  a  narrow, 
ill-paved,  filthy  lane  to  the  sea-wall,  along  which  we 
proceeded,  studying  the  quaint  facades  of  old  build- 


RAMBLES   ABOUT   CEFALU  1 59 

ings  that  reminded  us  more  of  the  houses  we  had 
seen  in  Spanish  seaports  than  those  of  Naples  and  the 
other  Italian  towns  we  had  visited.  On  the  gravel 
beach,  between  the  piers  and  breakwaters,  were  many 
fishing -smacks  of  different  odd  rigs,  xebecs,  "  feluc- 
cas," "speroneras,"  some  of  which  had  been  beached 
high  and  dry  above  the  surf,  while  others  were  be- 
ing berthed  in  very  rude  and  primitive  cradles  run- 
ning on  ship  railways,  operated  by  gangs  of  sailors 
working  windlasses  that  seemed  old  enough  to  have 
served  the  mariners  who  drew  up  King  Roger's  fleet 
upon  this  same  beach  centuries  ago.  Sicilian  fisher- 
men of  to-day  employ  the  same  forms  of  machinery, 
operated  in  the  self-same  way,  that  their  Saracen  and 
Norman  ancestors  thought  so  ingenious  and  labor-sav- 
ing. It  is  doubtful  if  a  people  that  still  use  wooden 
ploughs,  such  as  were  used  in  Egypt  in  the  time  of 
the  Pharaohs,  have  in  any  manner  improved  on  the 
machinery  employed  by  the  sailors  of  Homeric  times, 
or  by  Carthaginian  mariners  in  careening  their  vessels. 
The  craft  were  as  ancient -looking  as  the  machinery 
used  to  beach  them,  round -bodied,  full- breasted, 
clumsy  hulks,  with  broad  sterns  and  great  rudder- 
posts,  and  tillers  overtopping  their  poop-decks.  The 
hawse-holes  of  the  more  venerable  specimens  were 
painted  to  give  them  the  appearance  of  human  eyes, 
and  from  the  sides  of  these  vessels  projected  lee- 
boards  like  the  two  fins  of  a  vast  sea-monster.  Certain 
of  the  smaller  craft  had  been  careened  on  the  sands, 
and  caulkers  were  drumming  a  lively  tune  with  their 
mallets.  Pitch-kettles  boiling  over  fires  of  driftwood 
sent  up  plumes  of  inky  smoke  to  mingle  with  the  dark 
clouds  which  now  and  again  discharged  themselves  in 


l6o  PICTURESQUE  SICILY 

eddying  gusts  of  snow.  It  was  all  picturesque,  quaint, 
and  interesting,  so  suggestive,  so  realistic,  in  fact,  of 
old,  old  times,  old  habits,  ancient  fashions  of  'long- 
shore life.  And  the  mariners  themselves,  in  aspect, 
manners,  and  costumes  were  as  old-fashioned,  queer, 
and  curious  as  the  subjects  of  the  rude  pictures  pre- 
served to  us  from  mediaeval  ages.  Of  the  Italian  cast 
of  countenance  we  saw  almost  no  examples,  nor 
could  we  distinguish  any  that  resembled  the  Spanish 
type.  Arabs  and  Berbers  we  saw,  and  fair  -  haired 
Normans,  ruddy  and  blue-eyed,  some  with  curly  hair 
and  gray  or  brown  eyes ;  Northmen,  descendants  of 
the  sailors  that  drew  their  ship  ashore  at  Cefalu  when 
Roger  escaped  shipwreck,  more  than  seven  hundred 
years  ago. 

From  the  careening-place  we  followed  a  street  run- 
ning parallel  to  the  sea — a  thoroughfare,  to  judge  by 
the  appearance  of  the  buildings  on  both  sides  of  it, 
that  formerly  had  been  the  resort  of  the  merchants 
of  a  once  prosperous  seaport  town.  We  came  to 
where  a  stream  of  water,  bursting  from  a  wall,  fell  into 
a  pool  below  the  roadway,  and  thence  found  its  way 
across  the  street,  to  plunge  into  a  stone  basin  at  one 
side  of  a  small  court.  From  the  court  a  semicircular 
flight  of  stone  steps  led  up  to  the  street,  and  an  arched 
gateway  opened  to  a  narrow  close  that  descended  to 
the  sea-beach.  Around  the  marble  coping  of  this  res- 
ervoir was  a  crowd  of  men,  women,  and  children,  all 
engaged  in  washing  household  rags  and  tattered  gar- 
ments. It  was  an  industrious,  noisy  company,  gossip- 
ing, quarrelling ;  it  stared  defiantly  at  us,  the  "  fores- 
tieri,"  passed  remarks  about  us,  and  with  one  consent 
began  to  solicit  alms.     The  group  around  the  foun- 


A   MILKMAID 


RAMBLES   ABOUT   CEFALU  l6l 

tain  did  not  present  a  picturesque  or  an  agreeable  spec- 
tacle ;  the  day  was  bitterly  cold,  the  water  in  the  res- 
ervoir dirty,  soapy ;  the  court  decidedly  sloppy ;  the 
washermen  and  washerwomen  were  ragged,  wet,  be- 
draggled, and  beyond  the  hope  of  soap  to  cleanse 
them.  All  were  barearmed  and  barelegged,  but  of 
rounded  figures  or  shapeliness  of  limb  there  was  but 
a  beggarly  display.  One  little  girl  stood  in  the  icy 
water  flowing  through  the  conduit  beneath  the  arch 
washing  a  pair  of  stockings.  She  was  a  very  pretty 
child,  as  Sicilian  children  are  apt  to  be,  and  she  laughed 
and  frankly  stared  at  the  stranger,  the  Actaeon  who 
had  invaded  the  precincts  of  her  bath.  Snugly  wrap- 
ped in  his  overcoat,  Actaeon  shivered  to  see  the  nymph 
standing  in  the  bitterly  cold  water,  in  the  roaring 
draught  that  carried  the  snow-flakes  into  the  gloomy 
gateway.  The  nymph  pouted  her  lips,  and  with  a 
childish  disregard  of  the  weight  of  words  mourned 
plaintively  "  Muore  di  fame,  signori,"  and  put  out 
her  soapy  little  hand  for  a  soldo  ;  receiving  which,  she 
climbed  out  of  her  bath  and  stood  revealed  "  a  nut- 
brown  maid,"  cowering  and  trembling  in  the  biting 
gale.  Then,  all  untoweled  as  she  was,  she  donned  her 
one  little  garment,  a  tattered  frock  of  bright  crimson 
cotton,  and,  it  is  to  be  presumed  in  order  to  dry  them, 
drew  on  her  wet,  ragged  stockings ;  and  nobody  but 
Actaeon  seemed  to  entertain  the  idea  that  nymphs 
ever  died  of  croup  or  pneumonia. 

We  left  the  town  by  La  Porta  Giudecca  and  followed 
a  road  that  led  us  around  the  landward  face  of  the 
rock  of  Cefalu.  Above  us  were  battlemented  cliffs, 
the  castle-crowned  heights  of  the  headland  once  as 
inexpugnable  as  Gibraltar  in  the  old  days  of  Spanish 


162  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

virility  and  national  prowess.  Heaps  of  ruins  —  of 
towers,  keeps,  bastions,  and  curtain  walls  —  lay  tum- 
bled about,  the  debris  hardly  to  be  distinguished  from 
the  vast  confusion,  the  ruin  of  the  time-worn,  crum- 
bling mountain.  Looking  east  from  the  highest  point 
of  the  neck  of  land  that  connects  "  the  head  "  with 
the  shoulder  of  mainland,  we  beheld  the  shore  as  far 
as  Cape  Orlando,  sixty  kilometers  away.  Looking 
west,  we  could  see  Monte  Pellegrino  towering  above 
Palermo,  distant  fifty  kilometers  ;  and  in  the  northeast, 
far  out  at  sea,  Volcano,  Lipari,  Salina,  Filicuri,  and  Ali- 
curi,  five  of  the  seven  Lipari  Islands,  the  ancient  Isles 
of  ./Eolus,  uplifted  their  heads  from  the  tempest-tossed 
Mediterranean.  To  the  south  and  east  the  Madonian 
mountains  reared  stupendous  snow -crowned  peaks, 
and  when  the  flurries  of  snow  ceased  we  discovered 
all  the  country-side,  and  here  and  there  white  towns, 
framed  in  sombre  greens  and  grays — Collesano,  where 
are  the  remains  of  walls  of  an  unguessed  age ;  Calto- 
vulturo,  the  Kalat  -  Abi  -  Thaur  of  Saracenic  times, 
which  Roger  II.  bestowed  upon  his  daughter  Matilda ; 
Polizzi  "  La  Generosa,"  seated  on  its  pinnacle,  more 
than  three  thousand  feet  above  sea -level,  near  the 
springs  from  which  flow  the  two  great  rivers  of  Sicily. 
We  saw  also  Petralia  di  Sotto  and  Petralia  di  Sopra 
looking  down  from  their  unscalable  heights,  and  Gangi 
perched  two  thousand  eight  hundred  feet  in  mid-air. 
We  were  especially  interested,  however,  not  to  say 
startled,  when  our  guide  pointed  out  to  us  the  ill- 
omened  town  of  Santo  Mauro  Castelverde,  beyond 
Castelbuono,  where  the  brigands  we  had  seen  on  their 
trial  in  the  Corte  d'  Assiso  in  Palermo  made  their  lair, 
as  precious  a  pack  of  villains  as  ever  served  the  devil 


RAMBLES   ABOUT   CEFALU  1 63 

since  his  satanic  majesty  made  his  first  appearance  in 
Sicily  under  the  name  of  Daedalus. 

Marvelling  at  all  this  grand  panorama,  now  gazing 
at  the  mountains,  now  out  to  sea,  now  surveying  the 
coast  east  and  west  for  eighty  or  one  hundred  miles, 
we  almost  forgot  the  fact  that  snow  was  falling ;  that 
the  thermometer  indicated  most  un-Sicilian  weather. 
We  at  length  were  driven  to  seek  shelter  under  the 
lee  of  the  ruins  of  an  old  watch-tower,  where  we  found 
a  very  old  man.  So  stooped  and  infirm  was  he,  so 
thin,  so  weak,  it  seemed  impossible  he  could  stay  out 
in  the  weather  and  not  perish  of  cold.  He  arose  as 
we  approached  him,  bowing  obsequiously,  making  mo- 
tions as  if  he  were  doffing  his  hat.  He  wore  a  very 
ragged  and  faded  cappa,  the  cloak  and  capote,  which 
is  the  prevailing  fashion  of  winter  garments  all  over 
Sicily.  To  our  surprise  he  did  not  beg,  nor  did  he 
tell  us  he  was  dying  of  hunger,  although  he  looked 
most  like  to  be  of  all  the  woe-begone  humanity  we 
had  seen  that  bitter  winter  day.  He  said  something 
in  Sicilian  to  our  guide,  who  translated  to  us  the  old 
man's  inquiry : 

"Did  I  Signori  wish  to  hear  some  poetry?  Might 
he  be  permitted,  in  God's  name,  to  recite  to  the  stran- 
gers the  wonderful  poem  of  the  birth  and  crucifixion 
of  the  Christ  ?" 

Permission  being  granted  him,  the  old  man  threw 
back  the  hood  of  his  cappa  and  stood  bareheaded, 
clasping  his  hands  in  front  of  him.  The  forestieri  re- 
gretted that  ignorance  of  the  Sicilian  language  pre- 
vented them  from  understanding  much  of  the  story, 
which  was  recited  in  monotone,  as  if  the  old  man  were 
praying  aloud.     It   could  hardly  be  said  that  he  in- 


164  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

toned  the  lines,  nor  did  he  sing  or  chant  them.  He 
spoke  in  a  gentle,  melodious  voice,  slightly  accenting 
the  rhymes  and  preserving  the  rhythm  of  the  compo- 
sition. It  took  him  three  or  four  minutes  to  repeat 
the  verses,  which  he  did  with  but  one  momentary  hesi- 
tation, as  if  he  were  recalling  a  word  that  had  slipped 
his  memory.  In  all,  he  recited  between  two  hundred 
and  two  hundred  and  fifty  lines,  each  couplet  of  which 
rhymed.  When  he  made  an  end  our  guide  compli- 
mented him  in  our  name,  and  asked  him  to  recite 
other  verses.  This  he  willingly  did,  choosing  a  story 
from  the  "  Chronicles  of  the  Crusaders,"  and  again  he 
continued  to  repeat  verses  for  the  space  of  four  or 
five  minutes.  During  his  recitations  he  stood  as  if 
wrapped  in  thought,  bareheaded,  forgetful  of  the 
weather  and,  seemingly,  of  our  presence.  The  per- 
formance was  not  a  mere  repetition  of  lines  by  rote, 
for,  although  there  was  little  variation  in  accent  or 
tone,  he  seemed  to  speak  as  if  his  mind  were  fixed  on 
the  ideas  he  was  expressing.  The  tale  of  the  Crusade 
finished,  we  gave  him  whatever  it  may  have  been,  and 
again  requested  our  guide  to  ask  him  to  recite  other 
numbers  of  his  repertoire.  Informing  us  that  he 
would  give  us  the  story  of  the  u  Landing  of  Ruggiero 
and  the  Building  of  the  Cathedral  at  Cefalu,"  he  be- 
gan in  a  louder  and  more  inspiring  tone,  and  repeated 
the  lines  more  vigorously  and  with  finer  expression, 
using  certain  modest  gestures.  The  tale  of  King 
Roger  was  longer  than  either  of  the  other  two  reci- 
tations, and,  when  he  had  finished  it,  the  old  man, 
pointing  eagerly  in  the  direction  of  the  town,  told 
our  guide  to  say  to  the  strangers  "  that  there ! — 
there,  was  the  very  city  King  Ruggiero  had  visited, 


RAMBLES   ABOUT   CEFALU  165 

there    the   cathedral   he   had  built   in  honor   of  the 
Christ." 

How  were  the  mighty  fallen !  From  the  shoulders 
of  the  disciples  of  Ciullio  d'  Alcamo,  the  favorites  of 
kings,  the  pets  of  fortune,  the  mantle  of  minstrelsy 
had  fallen  on  the  bowed  shoulders  of  this  starved  and 
woe-begone  old  man  whom  we  found  on  a  bitter  Sicil- 
ian winter  day  cowering  under  the  ruins  of  an  ancient 
Norman  keep. 

"  Blow,  blow !  thou  winter  wind, 
Thou  art  not  so  unkind 
As  man's  ingratitude." 


XIX 

THROUGH   FRA  DIAVOLO'S  COUNTRY 

To  Corleo'ne — Village  of  the  Emirs— Roccabianca,  "Castle  of 
Diana"  —  Baths  of  Gefala —  Chiarastillo  Mountains — Fra 
Diavolo,  "The  Prince  of  Brigands" — His  Betrayal  and 
Death. 

The  railway  from  Palermo  to  Corleone  runs  east- 
wardly  close  to  the  sea  for  about  four  miles  to  "  The 
Point  of  the  Corsairs,"  then,  bending  to  the  south,  as- 
cends the  valley  of  the  Scanzano,  passing  Misilmeri,  a 
town  of  Saracenic  origin,  as  its  Arabic  name  Men- 
zil-al-Amir  (the  Village  of  the  Emirs)  abundantly 
testifies. 

Beyond  Roccabianca  we  catch  sight  of  the  Castle 
of  Diana,  of  which  a  grand,  square  tower  and  battle- 
mented  walls  remain  standing  on  the  summit  of  a  vast 
mound  rising  before  a  background  of  snow -covered 
mountains.  Below  Castello  di  Diana  are  the  hot- 
baths  of  Gefala,  which  the  Greeks  believed  were  dis- 
covered by  the  omniscient  Daedalus;  but  which,  ac- 
cording to  the  early  Christians,  were  set  flowing  by 
that  mysterious  anchorite  St.  Kalogeros,  who  has 
given  his  name  to  two  mountains  in  western  Sicily. 
The  Saracens  called  the  baths  Gefala,  and  set  great 
store  by  the  healing  properties  of  the  water,  which 
flows  in  abundance  from  never-failing  sources. 


THROUGH   FRA  DIAVOLO'S   COUNTRY  1 67 

The  railway  passes  onward  below  the  treeless,  bar- 
ren flank  of  a  range  of  rocky  mountains  known  as 
Chiarastillo,  once  upon  a  time  the  favorite  haunt  of 
the  renowned  Fra  Diavolo.  At  a  height  of  two 
thousand  five  hundred  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea, 
we  entered  one  of  the  wildest  and  least  explored 
mountain  regions  of  Sicily,  and  all  the  land  was  lone- 
ly, forsaken,  with  never  a  house  in  sight.  The  moun- 
tains were  heaped  and  piled  in  vast  confusion,  their 
summits  inaccessible,  the  valleys  between  them  un- 
canny lurking-places  of  shadows,  abodes  of  one  could 
not  divine  what  mysterious  beings,  human  or  super- 
natural. What  wonder  that  Daedalus,  "that  thief  of 
the  world,"  was  said  to  haunt  about  this  huge  wilder- 
ness ;  that  here  Diana  was  fabled  to  have  her  favorite 
hunting-grounds;  that  here,  in  the  early  days  of  the 
nineteenth  century,  Fra  Diavolo  lurked  in  safety,  defy- 
ing pursuit,  for  years  setting  at  naught  all  efforts  of 
the  military  to  capture  him,  until  he  was  finally  be- 
trayed into  the  hands  of  his  enemies  by  one  of  his 
own  faithless  companions.  That  he  should  have  re- 
mained at  liberty  so  long,  notwithstanding  the  fact 
that  there  was  a  great  price  set  upon  his  head,  can 
be  readily  understood  when  the  impenetrable  nature 
of  the  country  is  taken  into  consideration. 

Fra  Diavolo,  or,  as  he  was  christened,  Antonio  Bor- 
zetta,  and  his  brother  Ambrozio  were  born  about  the 
end  of  the  last  or  the  beginning  of  this  century,  in 
Carini,  the  native  city  of  Lais,  the  mistress  of  Alcibia- 
des.  The  father  of  the  lads  was  a  small  proprietor, 
but  he  was  unable  to  check  the  inbred  natural  propen- 
sities for  evil-doing  that  grew  with  the  growth  of  his 
two  sons  and  strengthened  with  their  strength.     While 


l68  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

still  a  callow  youth  Antonio  Borzetta  made  himself 
notorious  by  a  series  of  lawless  escapades  which 
brought  him  under  the  penalties  of  the  law.  Being 
arrested  for  petty  crimes,  he  escaped  from  jail  and  fled 
to  the  mountains  of  Chiarastillo,  where,  in  six  months, 
he  gained  the  reputation  for  wild  and  reckless  defiance 
of  all  authority  from  which  he  received  his  "  nom  de 
guerre,"  "  Fra  Diavolo."  For  years  he  haunted  the 
mountain  fastnesses,  where  one  man,  posted  on  a  nar- 
row pinnacle  of  rock,  or  at  the  head  of  a  steep  and 
narrow  defile,  might  safely  defy  a  whole  company  of 
soldiers  ignorant  of  the  topography  of  the  place. 

In  despair  of  being  unable  to  rid  the  world  of  so 
talented  a  strategist  and  so  busy  a  villain,  the  authori- 
ties of  Palermo  readily  listened  to  the  proposition  of 
Mario  Granata,  of  Misilmeri,  a  member  of  Fra  Diavo- 
lo's  band,  who  was  serving  a  life -sentence  in  prison, 
to  deliver  Fra  Diavolo  alive  or  dead  into  the  hands 
of  the  soldiers  as  the  price  of  his  (Granata's)  liberty. 
The  faithless  brigand,  whose  name  is  execrated  to-day 
in  the  songs  and  stories  which  perpetuate  the  fame  of 
the  chief  he  betrayed,  demanded  of  the  viceroy  money 
enough  to  purchase  powder  and  ball.  He  also  re- 
quested that  his  escape  from  prison  should  be  con- 
nived at  by  his  jailers,  so  that  he  might  present  him- 
self before  his  "  capo "  as  the  hero  of  a  desperate 
self-deliverance  from  prison.  In  accordance  with  his 
plans,  Granata  was  allowed  to  escape,  and,  providing 
himself  with  ammunition,  set  out  from  Palermo  on  his 
dangerous  and  delicate  mission. 

Fra  Diavolo's  brother,  Ambrozio,  entertained  suspi- 
cions of  the  wily  Granata,  which  he  communicated  to 
the  capo.   To  prove  the  sincerity  of  his  lately  escaped 


SICILIAN  (ARAB   TYPE) 


THROUGH   FRA  DIAVOLO'S  COUNTRY  169 

comrade,  Fra  Diavolo  intrusted  him  with  a  considerable 
sum  of  money  with  which  to  purchase,  in  Misilmeri, 
supplies  for  the  band.  It  was  argued  that  if  Granata 
was  a  true  man  and  a  trustworthy  brigand,  he  would  re- 
turn to  Chiarastillo  with  the  purchased  supplies  ;  if,  on 
the  other  hand,  he  was  dishonest  enough  to  rob  a 
robber,  he  would  keep  the  money,  as  he  would  be  able 
to  do  with  safety  to  himself,  for  it  was  not  illegal  to 
steal  from  a  brigand.  Mario  Granata  faithfully  per- 
formed his  mission  and  returned  to  his  chieftain,  and 
from  that  moment  enjoyed  the  full  confidence  of  his 
unsuspecting  comrades.  Shortly  after  Granata  re- 
joined Fra  Diavolo  he  asked  leave  of  absence  for 
twelve  hours  to  visit  his  wife.  Fra  Diavolo,  suspect- 
ing no  evil,  granted  the  request,  and  the  bandits  con- 
tinued their  journey,  expecting  to  be  rejoined  by 
Granata  before  they  entered  the  defiles  of  Chiarastillo 
mountains.  Granata  did  not  come,  and  Fra  Diavolo, 
ordering  a  halt,  sent  Vitali  into  the  town  of  Villafrati 
to  learn,  if  possible,  what  had  become  of  their  missing 
companion.  Vitali  entered  the  town,  and,  as  it  was 
the  Day  of  Annunciation,  attended  mass  and  listened 
to  a  sermon  preached  by  a  Capuchin  father,  after 
which  he  left  the  church  and  resumed  his  rambles 
for  the  purpose  of  gaining  the  information  he  was 
seeking.  He  discovered  the  presence  in  the  town  of 
a  force  of  gendarmerie,  an  extraordinary  spectacle, 
which  convinced  him  that  the  authorities  were  on  the 
tracks  of  Fra  Diavolo  and  his  band.  He  set  out  for 
the  mountains,  but  was  captured  by  troops  who  had 
been  placed  in  ambush  by  the  viceroy,  according  to 
the  advice  given  him  by  Granata.  The  captain  of 
the  battalion  demanded  of  Vitali  what  he  was  doing 


170  PICTURESQUE  SICILY 

in  the  mountains.  The  latter  replied  that  he  was  en- 
gaged in  gathering  simples  for  an  apothecary  and 
botanical  specimens  for  one  of  the  professors  of  the 
University  of  Palermo. 

While  the  soldiers  were  consulting  what  had  best 
be  done  with  their  captive,  Vitali  made  a  bold  dash 
for  liberty,  and,  although  fired  upon  by  the  troops, 
succeeded  in  escaping,  and  later  rejoined  his  fellow- 
brigands,  to  whom  he  recounted  his  adventures.  The 
band  attempted  to  escape  from  the  toils  that  had 
been  woven  around  them,  but  were  driven  back  to 
the  mountains  by  the  military,  who  had  completely 
surrounded  the  district  known  to  be  haunted  by  Fra 
Diavolo  and  his. merry  men.  At  a  signal  the  troops 
advanced,  and  after  four  hours  of  desultory  firing,  dur- 
ing which  the  brigands  offered  a  desperate  defence, 
the  object  of  the  expedition  was  assured.  Late  in  the 
afternoon  the  soldiers  carried  into  Villafrati  the  body 
of  Fra  Diavolo,  who,  to  save  himself  from  capture, 
had  shot  himself  in  the  head  at  the  moment  when 
the  soldiers  were  about  to  lay  hands  on  him.  In  the 
encounter  two  or  three  soldiers  were  killed  and  a 
gendarme  and  one  of  the  brigands  wounded.  The 
pastor  of  the  church  at  Villafrati  repaired  to  the 
mountains  to  shrive  the  dying.  All  the  members  of 
Fra  Diavolo's  band  who  were  not  killed  were  taken 
prisoners.  Ambrozio  and  Vitali,  who  could  have  saved 
themselves,  but  who  had  wished  to  die  with  their 
comrades,  were  captured,  taken  to  Carini,  Fra  Dia- 
volo's native  town,  and  shot.  They  died  game.  As 
Ambrozio  was  being  led  from  Carini  to  the  place  of 
execution,  followed  by  the  entire  population  of  the 
town,  he  remarked  to  his  executioners :  "  My  mother 


THROUGH   FRA  DIAVOLO'S  COUNTRY  171 

lost  nothing  by  not  making  me  a  priest.  Whatever 
reputation  for  sanctity  I  might  have  earned  in  holy 
orders  would  never  have  entitled  me  to  the  chief  place 
at  the  head  of  so  great  a  procession  as  this  which  fol- 
lows me  to-day." 

The  corpse  of  Fra  Diavolo  was  decapitated.  His 
head,  preserved  in  boiling  vinegar,  was  sent  to  the 
Viceroy  of  Palermo,  who  sent  it  back  to  Carini,  where 
it  was  exposed  to  public  view  in  an  iron  cage.  Thus 
perished  one  of  the  most  renowned  brigands  of  mod- 
ern times,  Fra  Diavolo,  whose  name  lives  in  song  and 
story,  recalling  the  shady  celebrity  of  Claude  Duval 
and  Jack  Sheppard,  so  famous  in  the  annals  of  English 
criminology.  It  is  not  true,  as  has  been  alleged  by 
some  chroniclers,  that  the  Fra  Diavolo  in  question 
was  the  hero  so  well  known  to  the  opera-going  pub- 
lic. Auber's  Fra  Diavolo  did  not  visit  Sicily,  but  con- 
fined his  operations  to  the  mountains  within  a  radius 
of  fifty  miles  of  Mount  Vesuvius.  He,  too,  was  a  ro- 
mantic villain,  whose  story  lends  itself  to  drama  and 
music,  and  it  will  be  remembered  that  it  was  his  love 
for  a  sweetheart,  known  in  the  opera  as  Zerlina,  that 
brought  the  Italian  Fra  Diavolo  within  range  of  the 
guns  of  Neapolitan  troops.  The  Sicilian  Fra  Diavolo 
was  no  less  susceptible  to  female  charms  than  was  his 
Italian  prototype,  but  he  bestowed  his  favors  liberally 
and  somewhat  indiscriminately,  as  we  may  surmise  from 
the  fact  that  of  many  of  the  towns  in  the  Chiarastillo 
mountains  it  is  affirmed  that  in  each  of  them  Fra  Dia- 
volo Borzetta,  of  Carini,  left  a  sweetheart,  if  not  a 
widow,  to  mourn  his  loss. 

Talking  of  Fra  Diavolo  reminds  us  that  when  we 
had  bidden  good-bye  to  Palermo  and  were  on  our  way 


172  PICTURESQUE  SICILY 

to  Girgenti  we  passed  Lercara,  a  town  rendered  nota- 
ble by  the  fact  that  its  environs  were  the  scene  of 
two  as  pretty  comedies  as  ever  were  enacted  by  good- 
natured  travellers  supported  by  a  stock  company  of 
heavy  villains  possessed  of  a  nice  sense  of  humorous 
and  dramatical  possibilities.  In  1876  an  English  resi- 
dent of  Palermo  was  captured  by  brigands  while  visit- 
ing his  properties  near  Lercara.  Rene  Bazin  must  be 
our  authority  for  the  statement  that  Mr.  John  Foster 
Rose  was  released  after  some  days  of  captivity  on 
the  payment  of  a  ransom  of  sixty-five  thousand  lire. 
That  Mr.  Rose  was  not  treated  with  undue  severity 
during  his  sequestration  we  may  well  believe,  for  the 
same  author  states  that  "  This  rich  foreigner,  a  man 
of  spirit,  who  cherishes  no  rancor  against  Sicilians  on 
account  of  his  picturesque  adventure,  will  certify  to  you, 
if  need  be,  that  during  the  twenty  days  of  his  captivity 
he  had  his  coffee  and  daily  newspaper  for  breakfast."  * 
The  Baron  Sgadero,  another  victim  of  the  band 
that  "  held  up  "  Mr.  Rose,  was  even  more  considerately 
treated  than  was  the  Englishman.  The  brigands  who 
captured  him  respectfully  kissed  the  baron's  hand 
and  apologized  for  the  trouble  they  were  giving  him. 
Nevertheless,  the  prisoner  was  kept  closely  guarded 
for  eight  days  in  a  cavern,  but  every  attention  was 
paid  him  as  became  a  man  of  his  quality.  Upon  his 
release  he  willingly  testified  before  the  judges  of  II 
Corte  d'  Assiso  of  Palermo  that  he  would  have  had 
nothing  to  complain  of  if  it  had  not  been  that  each 
day  of  his  captivity  in  II  Bosco  San  Onofrio  had  cost 
him  "la  bagatella,"  to  wit,  "fifteen  thousand  eight 
hundred  and  seventy-five  lire." 

*  Ren£  Bazin.     Sidle. 


XX 

CORLEONE 

Mezzojuso — An  Albanian  Town — Rocca  Busambra— II  Bosco 
di  Ficuzza — Corleone — A  Sicilian  Locanda — "The  King  of 
Mexico  " — "  The  Annals  of  the  Poor." 

From  Villafrati  the  railway  winds  along  the  side 
of  a  deep  valley,  across  which  we  beheld  the  town  of 
Mezzojuso,  seated  at  the  foot  of  cliffs,  enormous  but- 
tresses and  bowlders,  the  ruined  wall  of  Rocca  Busam- 
bra. Had  time  permitted  we  should  have  ventured 
upon  an  excursion  to  this  most  curious  place,  not- 
withstanding the  warnings  we  received  that  it  would 
be  utterly  impossible  for  us  to  entertain  the  idea  of 
resting,  even  for  a  few  minutes,  in  the  albergo,  if  in- 
deed there  were  one  in  the  poverty-stricken  town. 

Mensiuso,  as  it  is  called  in  Sicilian  (in  Arabic,  Men- 
zil-Jusuph,  i.  e.,  "  Joseph's  Village  "),  was  once  a  Sara- 
cen settlement ;  it  is  now,  and  has  been  since  1498,  an 
Albanian  colony.  It  was  colonized,  as  were  the  other 
Albanian  towns  in  Sicily,  by  Christian  refugees  from 
Turkish  tyranny  who  followed  Giorgio  Castriota  (bet- 
ter known  as  Scanderbeg)  into  involuntary  exile  to 
escape  death,  and  worse  than  death,  at  the  hands  of 
their  Moslem  oppressors.  John  II.,  father  of  Ferdi- 
nand the  Catholic,  granted  lands  to  the  refugees,  and 
set  aside  for  their  habitation  certain  cities — twenty- 


174  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

three  in  Calabria  and  four  in  Sicily — where  they  es- 
tablished themselves,  and,  having  acknowledged  the 
supremacy  of  the  Pope,  were  permitted  to  exercise 
their  own  religion  according  to  the  ritual  of  the  Or- 
thodox Greek  Church. 

No  scenery  is  wilder  or  more  rugged  than  that 
which  presents  itself  to  view  after  the  train  leaves  the 
station  where  passengers  for  Mezzojuso  alight.  To 
the  west  of  the  town,  beyond  the  valley,  the  depths  of 
which  are  but  little  cultivated,  rises  Rocca  Busambra, 
a  long  range  of  bare,  serrated,  gray  rock  over  five  thou- 
sand feet  in  height  and  several  miles  in  length,  having 
the  contour  of  an  enormous  letter  S,  resembling  the 
body  of  a  vast  saurian,  ribbed,  plated,  and  greaved — 
an  infinite  lizard,  a  plesiosaurus,  showing  its  horrid 
head,  its  crested  neck,  its  back,  above  a  chaos  of  rocks. 
We  could  fancy  that  the  beast  had  crawled  from  its 
lair  amid  the  mass  of  mountains  rising  behind  it,  in 
its  progress  crushing  like  grass  the  trees  of  the  forest 
of  Ficuzza,  that  grow  close  to  its  stupendous  flanks. 
Crouched  prone  upon  the  earth,  its  long  neck  stretched 
out  to  its  full  length,  projecting  its  crocodile-shaped 
head,  the  chimera  stealthily  creeps,  joint  by  joint, 
upon  its  prey.     One  is  reminded  of  how — 

"  Leviathan 
Hugest  of  living  creatures  on  the  Deep, 
Stretcht  like  a  Promontorie,  sleeps  or  swimmes, 
And  seems  a  moving  land." 

About  the  neck  and  head  of  Rocca  Busambra 
spreads  the  Royal  Domain  of  Ficuzza,  one  of  the 
two  or  three  so-called  forests  of  Sicily.  English  and 
German  guide-books  call  it  "a  dense  forest  of  ilex, 


CORLEONE  175 

birch,  and  cork  trees."  Trees  there  are,  and  of  the 
kinds  named,  but  the  trees  of  II  Bosco  di  Ficuzza  no 
more  make  a  forest,  in  the  American  acceptation  of  the 
word,  than  the  proverbial  swallow  makes  a  summer. 
The  birches,  ilex,  and  chestnut  trees  are  not  large,  nor 
do  they  grow  close  together ;  and  except  for  the  un- 
evenness  of  the  ground  and  the  roughness  of  it,  a 
gunner  might  pursue  his  journey  through  Ficuzza 
with  greater  ease  than  through  the  woods  that  shade 
the  banks  of  the  upper  Hudson  or  the  pleasant  groves 
that  clothe  the  foot-hills  of  the  Catskills. 

Ficuzza,  a  forest  for  many  generations,  was  enlarged 
at  the  expense  of  the  cattle  -  raisers  and  farmers  by 
William  the  Bad,  the  Norman  King  of  Sicily,  who,  like 
William  Rufus  of  England,  recked  not  what  settlements 
and  villages  he  obliterated  in  making  royal  forests, 
royal  wildernesses,  where  kings  and  nobles  might  fol- 
low the  chase.  In  the  good  old  times,  the  life  of  even 
small  game  was  held  in  higher  esteem  than  the  lives 
of  the  miserable  peasants,  whom  any  man  of  con- 
dition might  slay  at  his  sweet  will,  when  he  pleased, 
and  where  he  fell  in  with  them,  knowing  full  well 
that  serfs  of  the  soil  were  not  protected  by  law,  and 
that  there  was  no  "  close  season  "  for  common  men 
— mere  hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of  water. 

Beyond  II  Bosco  di  Ficuzza  we  came  again  to 
wheat -lands  and  treeless  hills,  and  saw  perched  on 
knolls  and  on  summits  of  giant  rocks  ruins  of  castles 
and  watch  -  towers,  relics  of  the  old  days  when  the 
husbandman  was  armed  with  sword  and  spear  as  he 
drove  his  team  afield,  when  granaries  must  needs 
be  fortresses  if  he  that  sowed  would  garner  his  crop. 
Winding  around  the  head  and  fore-front  of  Rocca  Bu- 


176  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

sambra,  the  train  descended  in  wide,  sweeping  curves, 
describing  horseshoes  and  almost  complete  loops  as  it 
found  its  way  down  into  the  valley  of  II  Fiume  Donna 
Beatrice,  crossing  which  it  mounted  again,  and  short- 
ly arrived  at  the  present  terminus  of  the  railroad,  the 
City  of  Corleone. 

Whatever  else  we  might  have  gone  out  "into  the 
wilderness  for  to  see,"  it  certainly  was  not  Corleone. 
We  had  made  the  journey  of  forty-three  miles,  a  dis- 
tance accomplished  in  four  hours,  solely  for  the  pur- 
pose of  viewing  the  picturesque  country  through  which 
the  railroad  finds  its  way ;  and  all  along  the  route 
from  Palermo  our  busy  minds  made  countless  "  snap- 
shots "  of  the  grand,  unnatural,  almost  unearthly, 
scenery  through  which  we  passed,  taking  mental  pho- 
tographs, which  memory  develops  with  wonderful  dis- 
tinctness when  we  recall  our  Sicilian  journeyings. 

At  the  station  of  Corleone  our  attention  was  chal- 
lenged by  a  sky-blue  omnibus.  Nothing  of  all  its 
component  parts  or  its  furnishing  was  new  but  a  body- 
coat  of  blue  paint,  which  contrasted,  oddly  enough, 
with  the  clay-incrusted  running -gear  of  the  vehicle. 
The  mud  of  years  clung  to  its  wheels,  and  it  seemed 
as  if  the  dust  of  ages  had  collected  in  the  ragged, 
faded  "  inside."  It  was  driven  by  a  living  scarecrow, 
and  drawn  by  two  horses,  the  toughness  of  whose 
hides  was  demonstrated  by  the  fact  that  their  bones 
had  not  yet  penetrated  the  parched  and  crackling 
integument  in  which  they  were  enveloped.  Fortu- 
nately for  the  poor  beasts,  nobody  took  passage 
within  the  coat  of  blue  paint ;  and  when  we  set  out 
from  the  station  we  left  the  equipage  where,  later 
in  the   day,  we    found   it,  still  awaiting   the   arrival 


SICILIAN   (GREEK   TYPE) 


CORLEONE 


177 


of  passengers  who  delayed  to  come  or  never  came 
at  all. 

In  the  square  in  front  of  II  Duomo  were  three  post- 
wagons,  as  old  as  the  specimen  we  had  seen  at  the  sta- 
tion, one  in  red  and  orange,  with  one  blue  and  three 
yellow  wheels,  and  an  old  vettura,  a  grandiose  vehicle, 
in  blue,  black,  and  yellow.  The  form  of  the  latter  was 
familiar  to  us.  We  had  seen  prints  of  its  kind  that 
were  in  vogue  in  the  middle  of  the  last  century.  Its 
windows  were  large  enough  to  permit  the  aiming  of  a 
blunderbuss  through  them  ;  its  doors  so  narrow  that 
the  average  man  must  needs  enter  sideways  ;  the  seats 
were  but  six  inches  in  width,  its  interior  but  four  feet 
square,  very  suggestive  of  agonizing  posturing  by  in- 
mates, "  cabin'd,  cribb'd,  confin'd,"  in  a  vehicle  built 
to  resist  the  shocks  consequent  upon  travelling  over 
rough  and  rocky  roads,  and  evidently  intended  to 
afford  a  defence  for  its  armed  occupants  from  the 
attacks  of  brigands.  In  such  conveyances  did  the 
Sicilian  nobility  make  their  journeys  in  the  days  of 
Fra  Diavolo  of  fearful  memory. 

Opposite  the  cathedral  was  the  only  locanda  in 
Corleone.  We  lunched  there — on  a  balcony  overlook- 
ing a  piazza ;  we  would  not  have  sat  down  within  the 
precincts  of  the  place  for  a  deed  of  gift  of  all  it  con- 
tained. We  had  brought  our  provisions  with  us,  and, 
fortunately,  were  obliged  to  make  use  of  nothing  be- 
longing to  the  albergo  but  the  balcony  and  a  cork- 
screw. The  odors  that  hung  about  the  building 
seemed  to  be  almost  visible  and  tangible.  They  so 
saturated,  pervaded  the  rooms  and  halls  that  one  was 
inclined  to  doubt  if  it  would  be  possible  to  close  the 
window-shutters  without  risking  an  explosion  of  ac- 


178  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

cumulated  fumes.  In  the  room  through  which  we 
stepped  to  the  balcony  was  a  bed — fit  only  for  the 
flames — two  broken  chairs,  a  table,  a  cracked  looking- 
glass,  that  reflected  such  distorted,  puffy  images  of  our 
faces  that  for  a  moment  we  fancied  we  had  already 
fallen  victims  to  the  fearful  contagion  that  infected 
the  locanda.  We  noticed  two  colored  lithographs 
hanging  on  the  walls,  and  conquered  disgust  at  the 
environment  long  enough  to  pause  and  read  the  in- 
scriptions, from  which  we  learned  that,  after  "  the  sub- 
mission of  America"  Cortez  had  condemned  a  certain 
cacique  to  death.  In  one  of  the  prints  the  two 
daughters  of  the  cacique  were  represented  as  arrayed 
in  the  garb  of  "  belles  sauvages,"  kneeling  before 
Cortez  to  intercede  for  their  luckless  father.  Cortez, 
in  satin  robes,  with  the  crown  of  America  on  his  brow, 
grants  the  prayer  of  the  maidens.  The  other  print 
represented  Cortez,  the  two  beautiful  savages,  and 
their  rescued  father  banqueting  under  a  palm  -  tree, 
served  by  negroes  in  Turkish  turbans,  while  Love  and 
Glory,  hovering  above,  awarded  a  wreath  of  victory  to 
the  magnanimous  Spaniard.  Thus,  in  another  form, 
we  beheld  examples  of  the  handiwork  of  the  artists 
who  decorate  the  carts  at  Palermo ;  and  the  litho- 
graphs testified  to  the  universal  craving  of  Sicil- 
ians for  illustrations  of  mythological  or  heroic  sub- 
jects. 

In  the  centre  of  the  square  in  front  of  the  locanda 
is  an  octagonal  fountain,  to  which  crowds  of  women 
came  to  fill  their  cruses  and  amphorae  with  water,  but 
there  was  never  a  Rebecca  or  "  Cruche  Cassee " 
among  them  all.  All  were  worn  and  anxious-looking ; 
the  young  girls   appeared   like  middle-aged  women, 


CORLEONE  179 

and  the  middle-aged  women  like  ancient  hags,  witches, 
and  ghostly  crones. 

While  we  partook  of  our  repast,  as  we  sat  on  the 
balcony,  we  were  the  cynosures  of  an  observant  crowd 
that  had  gathered  in  the  square  in  front  of  the  lo- 
canda,  an  envious,  hungry  company  that  begrudged 
us  every  bite.  To  the  half- starved  people  the  sight 
of  us  eating  our  lunch  was  beyond  expression  inter- 
esting. Poor  souls  !  The  thought  that  anybody  had 
enough  to  eat  must  have  been  tantalizing  to  them, 
for  in  Corleone  the  spectacle  of  man,  woman,  or  child 
who  goes  not  hungry  to  bed  every  night  is  a  vision 
of  paradise. 

The  exhibition  of  misery,  of  public  woe,  took  away 
our  appetites.  We  could  not  eat  in  the  presence  of  a 
starving  multitude;  so,  paying  our  reckoning,  we  hur- 
riedly left  the  locanda  and  started  on  a  tour  of  in- 
spection of  the  town.  Up  one  filthy  street,  down 
another,  meeting  poverty-stricken  folk  :  pale,  anaemic 
women,  hollow-eyed  men,  ragged,  weird  children,  who 
begged  us  for  bread,  croaking  in  hoarse  accents  like 
weary  old  people  tired  of  the  world.  The  streets  were 
paved,  it  is  true,  but  in  that  respect  resembled  the 
beds  of  mountain  torrents.  The  dens  in  which  the 
inhabitants  of  Corleone  live  are  dark,  damp,  and  deso- 
late ;  but,  be  it  noted  particularly,  they  afforded  evi- 
dence of  a  continued  struggle  on  the  part  of  their 
occupants  for  cleanliness.  There  was  no  wilful  sloven- 
liness visible ;  the  people  had  evidently  not  resigned 
themselves  to  a  condition  of  bestiality  ;  they  still 
fought  against  a  hopeless  state  of  dirt,  and  were  not 
content  with  their  existence  in  the  midst  of  squalor 
and  unmitigated  misery.     Although  it  was  near  noon. 


180  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

and  the  air  was  wintry,  there  were  fires  in  less  than 
one-tenth  of  the  houses,  and  little  preparation,  if  any, 
for  a  mid-day  meal.  Where  there  was  work  to  do  it 
was  being  done,  and  we  saw  mere  children — little  boys 
busily  pegging  and  sewing  shoes  in  the  stalls  of  the 
cobblers,  and  wee  girls  mending  rags  that  were  but 
fit  for  paper-mills.  We  saw  but  two  shops  of  any 
pretension,  although  Corleone  is  a  town  of  fourteen 
thousand  inhabitants,  and  they  were  the  establish- 
ments of  gunsmiths,  who  work  for  the  sportsmen 
from  Palermo  and  elsewhere,  who  come  to  Corleone 
"to  shoot  the  covers"  in  the  valley  and  on  the  neigh- 
boring hill -sides.  We  looked  in  vain  for  butcher- 
stalls,  and  found  but  few  baker -shops;  but  we  did 
see  several  ill-omened  signs  of  lottery- offices;  our 
guide,  pausing  a  moment,  pointed  first  to  one  of  the 
latter  and  then  to  a  neighboring  church,  saying : 
"  They  make  the  soldi  jump  out  of  the  pockets  of 
people  who  have  hungry  children." 

If  the  dwellings  are  poor,  and  hardly  deserve  the 
name  of  houses,  and  still  less  can  be  thought  of  as 
homes,  but  little  rent  is  paid  for  them.  We  asked  a 
woman  what  she  paid  a  year  for  her  two  rooms,  each 
of  them  about  ten  by  twelve  feet  on  the  ground  floor 
of  a  two-story  building.  She  paid  forty  lire  (eight 
dollars).  She  had  a  board  bed,  two  cheap  chairs,  a 
wooden  box,  two  amphorae,  two  pots,  a  cupboard,  a 
brazier,  a  few  mugs  and  plates,  four  knives,  no  forks, 
six  spoons.  The  place  was  clean,  the  scanty  bed- 
clothing  not  very  dirty,  and  the  rooms  were  as  neatly 
kept  as  it  was  possible  to  make  such  quarters.  The 
woman's  face  and  hands  were  clean,  her  hair  was 
combed,  her  gown  patched,  and  actually  some  of  the 


CORLEONE  181 

patches  themselves  were  mended  and  pieced.  All  this 
betokened  that  she  did  not  by  any  means  belong  to 
the  lowest  class  of  Corleone  society. 

She,  the  wife,  keeps  house  and  sews,  prepares  the 
food,  and,  when  she  has  babies,  cares  for  them.  Her 
husband  can  earn  a  lira  and  a  half  a  day.  He  is  a 
good  workman,  but  he  could  not  get  work  more  than 
half  the  time.  Her  boy,  the  only  child  now  at  home, 
can  earn  fifty  centesimi  a  day  tending  goats.  Some- 
times on  a  festa  they  can  afford  meat ;  they  give 
forty  centesimi  —  think  of  it,  philanthropists  !— each 
Sunday  to  the  church.  Wine  was  dear  ;  it  cost  thirty 
centesimi  a  litre  ;  it  used  to  be  fifteen,  but  the  "  dazio  " 
had  been  increased.  Her  boy  could  read  a  little  ;  he 
knew  more  than  his  father  and  his  mother ;  he  was  four- 
teen ;  in  two  years  he  would  have  to  go  for  a  soldier. 
Yes,  they  were  better  off  than  many  of  their  neigh- 
bors ;  they  were  fortunate  in  having  had  only  two 
children,  the  son  and  a  daughter.  The  latter  was 
married,  and  lived  in  Chiusa,  fourteen  miles  away. 
The  daughter  had  a  baby  four  years  old,  a  little  girl, 
call-ed  after  its  grandmother;  its  grandparents  had  not 
seen  the  child  ;  they  seldom  heard  from  their  daugh- 
ter ;  she  could  not  write.  The  last  time  they  had  news 
of  her  the  baby  was  ill— they  hoped  the  Virgin  had 
made  it  well  again.  Babies  were  misfortunes  to  poor 
people,  but  when  they  come  poor  people  love  them 
as  much  as  do  I  Signori. 

We  asked  her  if  she  had  heard  of  America.  Yes, 
the  husband  of  her  neighbor  across  the  street  had 
gone  there,  and  this  year  two  acquaintances  had  re- 
turned thence,  but  were  going  back.  In  America 
people  had  meat  two  or  three  times  a  week,  and  al- 


1 82  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

ways  pork  ;  and  her  friends  had  coffee  even  frequently. 
But  they  have  great  snows  in  America,  and  it  was  far, 
and  she  and  her  marito  were  no  longer  young.  Her 
husband  was  good  to  her — once  when  she  was  very 
ill,  when  her  boy  was  born,  he  had  sent  for  a  doctor. 

Such  are  "  the  short  and  simple  annals  of  the  poor" 
of  one  family.  There  are  hundreds  of  such  families 
in  Corleone;  tens  of  thousands  of  them  in  Sicily.  Are 
they  the  most  wretched  of  Sicilians?  Not  if  their 
state  of  poverty  is  contrasted  with  the  indescribable, 
unutterable  misery  of  hundreds  of  thousands  of  their 
less  fortunate  countrymen.  One  cannot  contrast  pov- 
erty with  riches  in  speaking  of  the  Sicilian  masses ; 
one  can  only  differentiate  the  degrees  of  pauperism. 
Sicily  is  as  poverty-stricken  to-day  as  in  the  ancient 
days  when  Verres  laid  waste  "  the  granary  of  the 
world,"  and  the  traveller  who  beholds  the  heartrend- 
ing woe  of  the  inhabitants  of  an  island  that,  in  hap- 
pier days,  was  "  a  garden  of  delight,"  may  well  recall 
the  words  of  Cicero — "O  spectaculum  miserum  atque 
acerbum."  * 

*  Cicero.     Verr.,  Lib.  V.,  Sec.  38. 


XXI 

JOURNEY  TO   SEGESTA 

An  Early  Start — Starlight — Sunrise — Birthplace  of  Lais — Cy- 
clops, Giants,  and  Chimeras  Dire— Acres  of  Wild  Flowers — 
Ancient  Rivers — Saracen  Strongholds — Calatafimi—  Hosts 
of  Beggars. 

JANUARY  28th  we  were  astir  before  daylight,  for 
we  were  to  take  a  train  that  started  at  five  o'clock. 
We  had  provided  ourselves  with  a  well -filled  lunch- 
basket,  for  we  were  in  doubt  as  to  the  quality  of  the 
restaurants  we  were  likely  to  find  on  our  journey,  if, 
indeed,  any  restaurants  there  were  between  Palermo 
and  our  destination.  We  took  with  us  all  our  wraps 
and  rugs,  for  later  there  was  to  be  a  ride  of  sixteen 
miles  through  a  wind-swept,  mountainous  country,  in 
the  midst  of  which  stands  the  object  of  our  pilgrim- 
age, the  Temple  of  Segesta. 

Out  from  the  station  of  Palermo -Lolli  the  train, 
promptly  on  time,  makes  its  way  under  the  stars, 
across  II  Conco  d'  Oro,  past  many  villas,  through 
orange  groves,  onward  to  the  northwest,  with  Monti 
Cuccio  and  Billiemi  towering  on  the  left,  Monte  Pel- 
legrino  and  Capo  di  Gallo  standing  between  the  sea 
and  the  sleeping  valley.  At  "  Unshoe  a  Horse " 
(Sferro  -  Cavallo),  so  called  in  consideration  of  the 
roughness  of  its  main  street,  a  fishing-village  eleven 


1 84  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

miles  from  Palermo,  the  train  skirts  the  sea-shore,  and 
we  behold  a  fairy  picture  of  dancing,  flitting  lights 
down  by  the  water's  edge  where  fishermen  were  launch- 
ing their  boats,  eager  to  begin  their  morning  labors  on 
the  fishing-banks.  The  train  bends  to  the  west,  bur- 
rows beneath  a  cliff  standing  up  from  the  sea,  emerges 
and  runs  along  at  the  foot  of  a  mighty  precipice  which, 
in  the  starlight,  resembles  the  walls  of  stupendous 
fortifications.  The  engine  shrieks,  startling  the  echoes 
accustomed  to  mellow  Sicilian  music,  and  we  stop  a 
moment  at  Isola  delle  Femine  (not  the  "Isle  of 
Women,"  but  the  Island  of  Euphemius),  a  few  hun- 
dred yards  from  shore,  capped  by  a  Norman  tower, 
in  which,  long  ago,  was  executed  Cottizona,  the  sor- 
cerer, who,  with  all  his  magic,  was  unable  to  persuade 
his  judges  that  he  was  in  verity  Don  Sebastian  of 
Portugal. 

We  skirt  a  fertile  plain,  after  we  pass  Capaci,  at  the 
foot  of  Monte  Zacate,  and  the  graying  dawn  reveals 
the  town  of  Carini,  a  picturesque  village,  with  the 
well-preserved  walls  of  a  feudal  castle  looking  down 
upon  it  from  an  overhanging  rock.  This  town  owes 
a  certain  shady  celebrity  to  the  fact  that  in  415  B.C., 
Nicias,  the  Athenian  ally  of  Segesta,  captured  and 
plundered  it,  and  finding  Lais,  a  girl  of  seven,  even 
then  bewitching  fair  to  look  upon,  carried  her  to 
Athens,  where  Apelles  painted  her  as  a  nymph  at  a 
fountain,  where  Demosthenes  wooed  her  with  his 
oratory,  Aristippus  patronized  her,  and  even  Diogenes 
left  his  tub  to  greet  her  softly  and  speak  her  fair. 
Carini  is  also  notorious  as  the  birthplace  of  no  less 
famous  a  personage  than  that  prince  of  brigands,  Fra 
Diavolo,  of  whom  we  have  already  discoursed  at  length. 


SICILIAN   MOUNTAINEER 


JOURNEY   TO   SEGESTA  185 

Onward,  from  the  inward  curve  of  mountains  at 
Carini,  the  railway  bends  seaward  again,  and  then 
rounds  the  base  of  Monte  Orso,  three  thousand  feet 
in  height.  In  the  light  of  the  coming  sun,  in  a  few 
minutes  to  rise  above  the  heights  of  ^Etna,  far  in  the 
east,  we  pass  through  a  vast  orchard  of  olive-trees, 
planted — who  knows  when?  The  people  call  them 
"  saracinesca,"  and  say  that  the  trees  are  older  than 
the  Norman  castle  on  the  heights  above ;  that,  in- 
deed, they  were  no  longer  young  when  King  Roger 
landed  in  Sicily  a  few  years  after  his  kinsman,  William 
the  Conqueror,  defeated  Harold  at  Hastings.  Be  that 
as  it  may,  the  ancient  olive-trees  in  the  shadow  of  the 
mountain  whose  crest  the  risen  sun  has  transfigured 
with  a  marvellous  light  are  of  remarkable  age.  Their 
gnarled,  misshapen  trunks,  lurking  in  the  night,  as- 
sumed the  forms  and  attitudes  of  cyclops,  giants, 
chimeras,  in  act  to  speak,  tossing  their  arms,  writh- 
ing in  agony  like  the  weird,  unearthly  shapes  that 
accosted  Dante  in  the  twilight  of  the  under-world. 
What  fearful  forms,  what  portentous  spectres  were  to 
be  guessed  in  the  dimness  of  departing  night !  what 
superstitions  might  chill  the  heart  and  torment  the 
mind  of  the  lonely  wanderer  in  such  a  scene!  for, 
lashed  by  winter  gales,  would  not  all  that  convocation 
of  unearthly,  monstrous  shapes  moan  and  growl  and 
hiss,  as  the  wild  blasts  tortured  them  into  more  fear- 
ful attitudes?  On  the  edge  of  the  land  overhanging 
the  sea  there  were  tree-like  phantasmagoria,  swaying, 
bending,  tottering,  threatening  to  dash  themselves 
down  below  into  the  sea,  to  the  rocks,  anywhere,  to 
escape  from  their  doom,  the  arrows  of  the  coming  day. 
All  this   was  partly  seen,  in    part    imagined,  as   the 


1 86  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

train  sped  along,  winding  its  way  in  and  out  among 
the  old  olive-trees,  planted  ages  ago,  when  the  Sara- 
cens held  all  this  sunny  land  and  the  Normans  still 
haunted  the  forests  of  the  wintry  North. 

And  now  the  sun  peeps  over  the  eastern  hills  and 
glorifies  the  mountains  beyond  the  Bay  of  Castella- 
mare,  a  wide  expanse  of  sparkling  water,  as  great  in 
extent  as  the  Bay  of  Palermo,  margined  by  a  sickle 
of  white  sand,  as  fair  and  brilliantly  limned  as  the 
new  moon.  All  around  the  borders  of  the  bay  orange 
groves  and  pleasant  fields  spread  far  and  wide  be- 
tween the  sea  and  sand-dunes,  rising  in  gentle  undu- 
lations to  hills  that,  sweeping  upward  in  noble  outlines, 
grow  to  mountains,  walling  in  this  charming  domain 
from  the  unguessed  world  beyond. 

The  train  has  passed  Partinico,  a  town  of  twenty 
thousand  inhabitants,  renowned  for  its  trade  in  oil  and 
wine,  and  soon  reaches  Balestrate,  whence  it  skirts  the 
shore  of  Castellamare,  keeping  close  to  the  beach  and 
sand-dunes,  the  latter  overgrown  with  gorse  and  heaths, 
curious  reeds  and  rushes,  and  cane  with  feathery 
plumes.  Acre  upon  acre  of  purple  flowers  growing 
close  to  the  ground  beautify  a  wild  and  barren  reach 
of  coast,  with  only  here  and  there  a  patch  of  soil  econ- 
omized from  the  general  waste  and  tilled  by  contadini, 
who  live  in  the  wattled  huts  erected  in  the  midst  of 
the  plantations.  Strange  reminiscences  of  the  past 
are  these  same  tabernacles;  for  in  such,  doubtless,  the 
Sicans  and  the  Siculi  dwelt,  in  prehistoric  times,  when 
they  made  their  dwellings  and  their  fishing-boats  of 
plaited  cane  covered  with  skins  of  goats,  as  the  ancient 
Britons  covered  their  willow  basket-work  with  skins 
of  wilder  beasts. 


JOURNEY  TO   SEGESTA  1 87 

Up  from  Castellamare  station,  three  miles  from  the 
town  of  that  name,  the  railway  winds  along  the  back 
of  II  Fiume  Freddo,  the  ancient  Simoi's,  a  turbulent 
stream,  which,  when  swollen  by  winter  rains,  spreads 
devastation  far  and  wide  along  its  course  through  the 
narrow  valley,  down  which  it  careers  to  meet  II  Fiume- 
Gaggera,  the  ancient  Scamander.  The  confluence  of 
these  two  streams  forms  the  San  Bartolommeo  (called 
by  the  Greeks  Krimisos),  which  flows  into  the  Tyrrhen- 
ian Sea  at  the  foot  of  Monte  Inice,  near  Castellamare 
del  Golfo.  On  the  banks  of  the  Krimisos,  Timoleon 
made  a  fearful  slaughter  of  the  Carthaginians,  B.C.  342. 

Confronting  Monte  Bonifato  to  the  southwest, 
across  the  valley  of  II  Fiume  Freddo,  stands  a  range 
of  hills,  and  just  beyond  its  crest  Calatafimi  sits  at  an 
elevation  of  eleven  hundred  feet  above  the  sea.  This 
hill  city  takes  its  name  from  the  old  Saracen  castle, 
Cal-at-  Eufimi,  but  it  is  better  known  from  the  fact 
that  it  gave  its  modern  name  to  the  battle-ground 
where  Garibaldi  fought  his  first  fight  for  Sicilian  lib- 
erty in  1 86 1. 

To  Calatafimi  we  were  bound,  and  from  the  railroad 
station  we  beheld  our  route  mapped  out  on  the  green 
hill-side,  coiling  upward  from  the  bottom  to  the  bleak, 
wind-swept  summit.  We  found  awaiting  our  arrival 
a  vettura,  a  landau  with  three  horses  harnessed  abreast. 
Worn  and  travel-stained  was  the  ancient  equipage,  and 
faded  and  torn  the  very  old  -  fashioned  livery  of  its 
driver;  but  when  we  had  taken  our  seats  in  it  the 
three  horses  whirled  it  lightly  along  the  road,  respond- 
ing gallantly  to  the  snapping  of  whip  and  the  shrill, 
raven-like  cry,  "  Ah-ee  !  Avanti !"  of  their  master,  who 
drove,  as  did  the  son  of  Nimshi,  furiously,  as  do  all 


188  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

Sicilian  drivers  of  to-day,  as  if  the  veritable  Fra  Dia- 
volo  himself  were  in  full  cry  in  pursuit.  An  hour  of 
climbing,  of  relentless  and  apparently  needless  urging 
of  willing  horses  that  tugged  viciously  at  the  traces, 
straining  them  almost  to  the  breaking-point,  and  we 
arrived  at  the  crest  of  the  hill,  and  just  below  it,  on  its 
further,  its  southwestern,  slope,  beheld  Calatafimi,  a  city 
of  ten  thousand  people.  Down  a  short  stretch  of  badly 
paved  highway  we  plunged,  the  old  vettura  rattling 
like  a  hundred  pairs  of  castanets,  bumping,  thumping, 
swinging,  and  swaying  from  side  to  side,  and  entered 
a  narrow  and  untidy  street,  through  which  we  careered, 
reckless  of  the  consternation,  not  to  say  terror,  we  oc- 
casioned to  children,  pigs,  fowls,  and  mangy  cur-dogs, 
that  fled  screaming,  squealing,  cackling,  and  yelping 
promiscuously  into  dirty  houses  or  down  filthy  side- 
streets,  or  still  filthier  alleys,  pell-mell,  in  mad  struggle 
to  escape  from  our  onward  charge.  Suddenly  the 
vettura  drew  up  in  front  of  an  albergo,  at  sight  of 
which  we  instantly  congratulated  ourselves  that  we 
were  not  dependent  upon  its  hospitality  for  entertain- 
ment. Indeed,  the  squalor  of  the  town,  the  filth  ac- 
cumulated in  the  streets,  the  sickening  odors  which 
polluted  even  the  mountain  air,  the  poverty-stricken 
appearance  of  the  inhabitants,  the  loathsome  aspect 
of  hosts  of  beggars  who  crowded  around  our  convey- 
ance, mumbling,  whining,  some  boldly  demanding 
alms,  grimacing  idiotically,  gesticulating  wildly,  as 
they  exhibited  grewsome  scars  or  hideous  deformities. 
All  these  sights  and  sounds  made  us  impatient  to  con- 
tinue our  journey  with  as  little  delay  as  possible.  On 
taking  our  departure  from  the  albergo  we  were  com- 
pelled to  go  on  foot,  owing  to  the  steepness  and  rough- 


JOURNEY   TO    SEGESTA  189 

ness  of  the  streets,  to  a  gate  of  the  city  at  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  town  from  that  by  which  we  had  en- 
tered. It  is  needless  to  say  that  we  were  followed  by 
a  crowd  of  beggars,  who  limped  and  hobbled  after  us, 
plucked  at  our  garments,  ran  before  us,  and  stood  in 
our  way,  crying  "  Muore  di  fame,  signori !  Muore  di 
fame,  signori !"  (Dying  of  hunger,  your  worships ! 
Dying  of  hunger,  your  worships !)  We  hurried  on, 
utterly  disconcerted  by  the  awful  spectacle,  dropping 
half  a  handful  of  soldi  in  hopes  of  delaying  the  mob, 
that  seemed  ready,  in  the  recklessness  of  despair,  to 
lay  hands  on  us,  and  we  dared  not  look  behind  to  see 
the  mad  scramble  for  the  coppers. 


XXII 

SEGESTA 

A  Distant  View  of  a  Doric  Temple— The  Valley  of  the  Gag- 
gera — "The  Rolling  Scamander" — Fording  the  Torrent — 
"  A  Wild  and  Lonely  Land  " — Ancient  Segesta — Its  Glori- 
ous Temple— A  Greek  Theatre — Wonderful  Landscapes. 

At  the  western  gate  of  Calatafimi  we  sprang  into 
our  vettura,  shouted  to  our  driver  "  Avanti !"  and 
urged  him,  who  needed  no  urging,  to  rapid  flight 
from  the  hideous  precincts  of  the  town  and  its  hordes 
of  beggars. 

As  we  drove  away  from  the  city  gate  we  beheld 
perched  on  a  lofty  pinnacle  of  rock  the  Castle  of 
Calatafimi,  hanging  fearfully  over  the  valley,  looking 
down  which  we  caught  a  distant  view  of  hills  on  hills, 
rising  in  gray  and  purple  masses  from  the  depths  of 
the  valley  down  which  our  road  led  along  the  right 
bank  of  the  Gaggera,  flowing  a  thousand  feet  below. 
Two  miles  or  more  ahead  of  us  a  rocky  pyramid  juts 
boldly  out  from  the  western  mountain,  with  which  it 
is  connected  by  a  neck  of  rock,  and  on  this  isthmus 
stands  a  Doric  temple  superb  in  its  isolation,  desolate, 
deserted,  silent.  In  color  the  edifice  is  golden  brown, 
and  at  this  distance,  as  the  mellow,  winter  sunlight 
falls  upon  it,  the  Temple  of  Segesta,  possibly  the  most 
perfectly  preserved  relic  of  Greek  architecture  in  Sici- 


SEGESTA  191 

ly,  reminds  one  of  a  daintily  carved  reliquary  of  ruddy 
gold  placed  on  a  great  altar  overlaid  with  cloth  of 
green.  Cradled  among  the  hills,  lapped  round  by  up- 
land meadows,  where  the  turf  grows  velvet-soft,  the 
ancient  sanctuary  sits  in  magnificence,  guarded  and 
watched  over  by  silver-gray  and  purple  mountains,  up- 
lifting their  domes  and  spires  to  the  blue  vault  of 
heaven  that  bends  over  the  consecrated  spot. 

We  found  ourselves  in  a  lonely  land,  a  country  bare 
of  trees  (as  are  all  the  wild  valleys  and  mountain- 
sides of  Sicily),  scarcely  a  house  to  be  seen,  and  little 
evidence  of  human  life  or  activity.  The  road  before 
us,  twining  and  undulating  along  the  mountain-side, 
finally  lost  itself  among  the  great  hills  far  ahead. 
Throughout  all  its  length  we  could  not  discover  other 
travellers  than  ourselves.  The  distant  hills  seemed  to 
rise  like  the  monstrous  waves  of  a  dead  and  immobile 
sea  ;  their  woodless  heights  and  summits  presented  a 
barren,  dreary  aspect  that  even  sunlight  failed  to  cheer. 
There  was  snow  on  the  crests  of  the  mountains  ;  the  air 
was  sharp  and  wintry ;  the  wind  made  a  hollow  moan- 
ing as  it  swept  the  naked  fields  and  sere  pasturages. 
By  the  side  of  the  road  blanched  stalks  of  bitter  aloes 
stood  erect  like  spears  and  cacti  (fichi  d'  India),  in- 
congruous growths,  intruding  their  uncanny  shapes 
amid  thickets  of  leafless  brier -bushes,  sombre  gorse, 
and  planta  genesta.  The  highway  declined  to  the 
river-bottom,  and  finally  led  us  to  a  level  tract  cov- 
ered with  pebbles  and  bowlders  left  by  a  late-receding 
flood.  Where  a  by-path  led  down  to  the  bank  of  the 
Gaggera  the  vettura  stopped,  and  we  found  an  asi- 
najo  and  his  beast  awaiting  our  coming.  Asinajo 
did  not  seem  particularly  glad  to  see  us,  and  when  we 


192  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

alighted  our  driver  turned  his  vehicle  about  and  drove 
off  without  as  much  as  saying  "  A  riverderci,"  and 
there  were  we  alone  in  a  desolate  glen,  miles  from  the 
nearest  police  station.  The  two  carabinieri  we  had 
seen  on  their  way  back  to  Calatafimi  had  doubtless 
arrived  there  by  this  time.  The  air  was  biting  cold, 
the  sky  had  become  overcast,  the  country  looked  sav- 
age and  desolate,  our  sole  companion  had  as  yet 
spoken  no  word,  we  had  breakfasted  before  sunrise,  it 
was  after  mid -day  and  we  had  not  lunched.  What 
wonder  that  thoughts  of  brigands — Sicilian  brigands — 
crossed  our  minds.  And  of  all  places  we  had  visited 
during  our  rambles  in  Sicily  most  suggestive  of 
brigands  and  "  brigantaggio"  was  the  valley  of  the 
ancient  Scamander,  "  on  whose  banks  "  (according  to 
our  Murray)  "  the  ferocious  Agathocles  slaughtered 
all  the  poorer  citizens  of  Segesta."  To  us,  nursing  our 
suspicions  and  weakly  foreboding  all  degrees  and  kinds 
of  misadventures,  our  asinajo  preferred  the  request : 
"  Un  pezzo  di  pane,  signori." 

We  made  haste  to  serve  him,  and  in  addition  to  the 
bread  gave  him  a  piece  of  cheese  and  both  the  legs 
of  a  cold  fowl.  What  would  we  not  have  given  him 
had  he  announced  himself  as  a  deputy  of  Fra  Diavolo 
and  insisted  upon  mistaking  us  for  an  English  lord 
and  lady  or  American  millionaires?  If  asinajo  found 
it  in  his  heart  to  thank  us,  he  prevented  his  good  in- 
tention (for  which  we  gave  him  credit)  by  gagging 
himself  with  a  drumstick,  and  in  an  incredibly  short 
time  our  gift  of  provisions  had  disappeared.  Then, 
for  the  first  time,  he  deigned  to  smile  upon  us  as  he 
suggested  starting  immediately  upon  our  journey. 
Having  assisted  la  signora   to    mount   a   gorgeously 


NORMAN   AND   SARACEN  TYPES 


SEGESTA  193 

caparisoned  asina,  he  drove  the  beast  into  the  stream, 
where  the  careful  animal,  taking  her  own  time,  pick- 
ing her  way  cautiously,  judgmatically  setting  her 
feet  on  solid  bottom,  managed  to  struggle  through 
the  torrent,  and  finally  to  emerge  on  the  farther 
bank.  Meanwhile,  the  writer,  accepting  the  invitation 
of  the  youth,  who  was  several  inches  shorter  and 
perhaps  forty  pounds  lighter  than  himself,  mounted 
upon  the  back  of  the  Sicilian,  where  he  clamped  him- 
self pick-a-back,  fully  determined  that  he  should  not 
be  gotten  rid  of  so  long  as  the  asinajo  kept  his  feet  and 
chose  to  play  the  role  of  Sindbad  to  an  Americano 
"  Old  Man  of  the  Sea."  The  current  nearly  swept 
the  youth  from  his  slippery  footing  on  the  smooth, 
round  stones  which  composed  the  bed  of  the  stream. 
The  eddying,  swirling  sweep  of  water  made  the  tour- 
ist giddy ;  he  closed  his  eyes,  tightened  his  grip,  ex- 
pecting every  moment  to  find  himself  plunged  beneath 
the  "  rolling  floods  of  Scamander." 

At  length  the  asinajo,  a  mere  boy,  staggered  up  the 
farther  bank  and  set  the  full-grown  man  on  solid 
ground  ;  then,  turning  to  survey  his  late  burden  from 
head  to  foot,  as  if  to  measure  its  proportions  and  esti- 
mate its  solid  contents,  the  panting  youth  ejaculated, 
in  a  tone  of  self-  congratulation,  "  Per  Bacco !"  and 
crossed  himself.  Not  another  word,  good  or  bad,  did 
he  vouchsafe ;  nevertheless,  he  seemed  to  regard  the 
incident  good-naturedly  and  entirely  in  the  light  of 
business.  We  proceeded  on  our  journey,  the  lady 
riding  the  asina  led  by  the  asinajo,  the  writer  follow- 
ing humbly  behind  with  what  speed  he  could,  over  as 
muddy  and  slippery  a  bit  of  road  as  it  has  ever  been 
his  fate  to  travel  on  foot.  Up  the  steep  ascent  we 
13 


194  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

climbed  for  half  an  hour,  rounding  the  northern  face 
of  Monte  Barbaro  ;  then,  crossing  the  shoulder  of  the 
mountain,  came  to  the  house  of  the  custode,  from  the 
door-steps  of  which  we  obtained  a  view  of  the  Temple 
of  Segesta  we  are  not  likely  soon  to  forget. 

In  plan  and  elevation,  in  detail,  in  decoration,  the 
edifice  is  a  perfect  specimen  of  the  Doric  school,  and 
of  that  school  at  its  best.  Its  austere  simplicity,  its 
massive  construction,  the  grand  effects  of  faultless 
perspective,  all  inspire  the  imagination  with  a  sense 
of  true  beauty  and  appeal  to  the  intellect  as  demon- 
strations of  supreme  art.  All  the  world  has  seen 
Paestum  and  admired  the  three  ruins  superbly  rising 
on  the  solitary,  naked  plain,  surrounded  afar  by  blue 
mountains  and  within  the  sound  of  the  breakers  roll- 
ing upon  the  beach.  It  may  be  questioned  whether 
the  Temple  of  Neptune,  of  the  three  ruins  of  Paestum 
the  most  beautiful,  is  purer  Doric  than  the  Temple  of 
Segesta,  or  whether  it  is  better  preserved.  The  latter 
is  placed  in  the  midst  of  such  a  wonderful  landscape, 
and  is  so  charmingly  related  to  its  surroundings,  that 
it  creates  in  the  mind  an  indescribable  impression  of 
grandeur  and  beauty.  Guy  de  Maupassant  expresses 
this  idea  when  he  says:  "The  Temple  of  Segesta  ap- 
pears to  have  been  posed  by  a  man  of  genius  who  had 
revealed  to  him  the  only  site  where  it  might  be  fitting- 
ly placed  ;  where  it  alone,  in  its  solitude,  animates  the 
immensity  of  the  landscape,  giving  life  to  the  scene 
and  rendering  it  divinely  beautiful." 

The  peristyle  of  the  Temple  of  Segesta  is  191  feet 
7  inches  in  length  by  j6  feet  5  inches  in  width;  it 
has  thirty -six  columns  in  all,  six  on  each  front  and 
twelve  on  each  side,  not  counting  the  four  columns 


SEGESTA  195 

at  the  corners,  which  belong  both  to  the  front  and 
wings.*  The  columns,  resting  on  a  platform  of  four 
steps,  are  unfluted,  and  at  their  base  measure  6  feet 
11  inches  in  diameter  and  are  35  feet  in  height.  The 
capitals  are  in  one  piece,  and  the  blocks  of  the  archi- 
traves are  of  enormous  size,  spanning  the  width  be- 
tween the  centres  of  the  columns.  That  the  columns 
are  unfluted,  and  that  there  is  no  trace  of  a  cella  or  of 
interior  pavement,  shows  that  the  temple  was  never 
finished.  The  work  on  it  was  probably  suspended 
when  Segesta  was  taken  by  Agathocles  (307  B.C.) 
and  its  inhabitants  put  to  the  sword. 

As  we  sat  looking  at  the  superb  ruin  from  the 
house  of  the  custode  we  became  conscious  that  it 
owed  its  charm  and  grandeur  primarily  to  the  perfect 
symmetry  of  its  design — to  the  exact  and  effective 
co-ordination  of  all  its  parts  each  with  each;  in  a 
word,  to  the  harmonious  relation  of  all  its  dimensions 
whether  of  general  plan  or  of  detail  of  construction. 
It  seemed  to  us  faultless,  equally  and  proportionately 
massive  in  all  its  parts,  so  that  the  enormous  size  of 
its  columns  was  not  unduly  emphasized  ;  and,  not- 
withstanding the  age-defying  solidity  of  the  structure, 
we  found  it  to  possess  grace,  elegance,  and  apparent 
lightness,  notwithstanding  its  Titanic  strength  and 
solidity. 

When  we  resumed  our  walk  we  were  followed  by 
a  dozen  boys,  who  had  congregated  we  knew  not 
whence,  for  there  was  no  house  in  sight,  save  the  of- 
ficial residence  of  the  custode,  and  he  most  emphati- 
cally disclaimed  responsibility  for  any  of  the  party  ;  in- 

*  Chiesi.      Sicilia. 


I96  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

deed,  he  seemed  to  be  as  much  troubled  as  were  we  by 
their  company  and  their  demands  for  alms,  for  "pezzi 
di  pane,"  which  were  prefaced  and  followed  by  the 
wail  "  Muore  di  fame,  signori!  Muore  di  fame!" 
The  incessant  importunities  of  these  youthful  ban- 
ditti, who  mocked  at  the  threats  of  the  custode  and 
laughed  when  he  brandished  his  cudgel,  robbed  our 
visit  to  the  temple  of  much  of  its  anticipated  pleas- 
ure. At  length  we  opened  our  lunch-basket,  and,  re- 
serving for  ourselves  certain  of  its  contents,  gave  the 
remainder  to  our  asinajo,  authorizing  him  to  divide 
the  provisions  with  his  chums,  on  the  condition  that 
he  induce  them  to  leave  us  in  peace  and  quietness. 
They  retired  to  the  far  side  of  the  temple,  and  we 
secured  a  short  respite  from  their  onsets,  but  we  could 
hear  them  wrangling  like  angry  brigands  quarrelling 
over  their  booty.  They  soon  returned,  however,  to 
where  we  were  seated,  and  we  were  obliged,  finally,  to 
rid  ourselves  of  their  company  by  leaving  them  in 
possession  of  the  place  and  betaking  ourselves  to  the 
theatre  of  Segesta. 

From  the  front  of  the  temple  a  narrow  mule-trail 
leads  downward  to  and  across  the  meadows,  then  up 
again,  curving  around  the  south  side  of  Monte  Bar- 
baro,  and  so  mounts  to  the  summit,  a  rocky  platform 
a  few  acres  in  extent.  The  northeast  angle  of  the 
face  of  the  mountain  has  been  hewed  and  hollowed 
to  form  the  cavea  (auditorium)  of  the  ancient  play- 
house. In  form  it  is  semicircular,  its  greatest  diame- 
ter being  two  hundred  and  five  feet ;  it  is  surrounded 
by  a  wide  gallery,  below  which  are  twenty  semicircular 
rows  of  seats  divided  into  seven  cunei  by  flights  of 
steps  leading  down  to  the  chorus.   The  scena,  or  stage, 


SEGESTA  197 

is  ninety  feet  wide,  and  is  in  such  a  fair  condition  of 
preservation  that  one  may  study  its  construction  and 
gain  an  adequate  idea  of  the  arrangement  of  the  scenery 
and  the  mechanisms  employed  in  the  representations  of 
Greek  plays.  While  the  theatre  of  Segesta  is  not  as 
large  as  the  theatre  at  Taormina  or  Syracuse,  being 
about  one-third  the  size  of  the  former  and  but  half 
the  size  of  the  latter,  it  is  in  some  respects  a  more 
artistic  and  handsomer  structure  than  either,  and  in 
the  grandeur  of  its  situation  is  surpassed  only  by  the 
theatre  at  Taormina. 

At  the  back  of  the  scena,  which  of  old  was  orna- 
mented by  a  double  row  of  columns,  the  face  of 
Monte  Barbaro  drops  in  sheer  precipices,  disclosing  a 
magnificent  panorama  of  mountains  and  highlands 
across  the  valley  of  the  Gaggera,  beyond  which  rise 
the  superb  pyramids  of  Monti  Inice,  Sparagio,  and 
Del  Romito.  To  the  right  of  Monte  Inice,  and  be- 
tween it  and  Monte  Bonifato,  crowned  with  the  Castle 
of  Alcamo,  the  eye  ranges  over  a  long  vista  of  fertile 
land,  extending  along  the  foot-hills,  sinking  gradually 
onward  to  the  Gulf  of  Castellamare,  as  far  as  to  Mon- 
taniello,  thirty  miles  distant  in  the  northeast.  Down 
the  valley  of  the  Gaggera  is  to  be  seen  the  site  of  the 
celebrated  Thermae  (hot-baths),  near  the  town  of  Cas- 
tellamare (Emporio  Egestano),  the  ancient  seaport  of 
the  metropolis  Segesta. 

We  could  have  remained  long  seated  in  the  old 
theatre  that  has  been  for  ages  silent  and  tenantless, 
but  the  day  was  drawing  to  a  close,  and  it  was  a  far 
cry  to  the  station  of  Alcamo-Calatafimi.  We  accord- 
ingly set  out  on  our  return  journey,  taking  a  sheep- 
walk,  which  wound  down  and  around  the  face  of  Mon- 


I98  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

te  Barbaro,  and  in  a  few  minutes  came  to  the  house 
of  the  custode.  Stopping  there  but  long  enough  to 
register  our  names,  we  bade  the  custodian  "  riverder- 
la,"  and  in  the  order  in  which  we  had  made  the  ascent 
in  the  morning,  so  we  descended  to  the  banks  of  the 
Gaggera,  forded  the  stream,  and  paid  our  asinajo,  who 
loudly  complained  of  our  "tip,"  although  it  was  more 
than  double  the  sum  he  was  entitled  to  receive.  He 
accepted  an  extra  allowance  equal  to  the  sum  we  had 
at  first  given  him  without  a  word  or  sign  of  thanks 
for  this  quadruple  fee.  Then,  turning  as  if  to  depart, 
he  halted,  and  returned  again  to  ask  us  with  undaunted 
assurance  to  give  him  "  qualche  cosa  per  mangiare," 
and,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  we  had  made  over  to  him 
the  larger  part  of  our  lunch,  ventured  the  assertion, 
"  Muore  di  fame,  signori!"  We  found  our  vettura 
awaiting  us,  and,  losing  no  time,  we  set  off  for  the 
railway  station.  As  we  went  around  the  town,  and 
did  not  enter  Calatafimi,  we  saw  no  more  of  its  beg- 
gars and  its  poverty-stricken  people. 


XXIII 

SELINUS 

The  Quarrel  of  Selinus  and  Segesta— Salem i — Castelvetrano 
— The  Ruined  Temples  of  Selinus — A  Scene  of  Desolation. 

FROM  Alcamo-Calatafimi  to  Castelvetrano  the  rail- 
way runs  over  meadow-lands,  and  where  the  valley  of 
the  Crimisus  expands  into  the  plain  of  Salemi  we 
beheld  the  vast  extent  of  all  that  fruitful  country 
(celebrated  for  its  wheat)  for  the  possession  of  which 
the  citizens  of  Segesta  and  Selinus  waged  unceasing, 
ruthless  war  during  the  fifth  century  before  Christ. 
It  is  hard  to  believe  that  it  was  the  war  between  the 
two  ancient  cities  for  the  possession  of  these  Sicilian 
wheat-lands  that  involved  Athens  in  a  contest  which, 
in  the  end,  so  greatly  impaired  her  military  and  naval 
power  that  thereafter  the  Spartans,  and  not  the  Athen- 
ians, dominated  the  internal  affairs  and  dictated  the 
foreign  policy  of  Greece. 

Midway  between  Alcamo-Calatafimi  and  Castelve- 
trano we  came  to  the  station  of  Ninfa- Salemi.  The 
latter,  the  ancient  town  of  Halicyae,  contains  to-day 
about  ten  thousand  inhabitants,  and  is  superbly  placed 
on  a  picturesque  height  crowned  by  the  crumbling  re- 
mains of  a  Saracen  castle.  From  here  on,  as  we  de- 
scended from  the  water-shed  between  the  Tyrrhenian 
and  the  African  seas,  leaving  the  wheat-lands  behind, 


200  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

we  travelled  through  a  country  of  vineyards,  orchards, 
and  olive  groves,  crossed  a  wide  plain  of  corn  -  fields 
and  pastures,  and  came  to  Castelvetrano,  where  we 
proposed  stopping  for  the  night. 

Casteddu  Vetrano,  as  its  inhabitants  call  their  city 
of  twenty  thousand  people,  sits  upon  a  hill-side,  over- 
looking a  fair  and  fertile  district  of  which  the  Dukes 
of  Monteleone  are  hereditary  proprietors.  Their  old 
palazzo,  adjoining  a  church  with  a  curious  campanile, 
stands  in  the  market-place  of  the  town ;  but  Castelve- 
trano is  a  squalid,  wretched  abode  of  miserable  people, 
and  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  the  dukes  rarely 
visit  their  estates  or  lodge  in  the  Aragona-Pignatelli 
Palazzo.  At  Castelvetrano  we  lodged  comfortably  at 
the  Hotel  Bixio,  and  at  an  early  hour  on  the  morning 
after  our  arrival  we  set  out  on  our  expedition  to 
Selinunte. 

It  is  seven  miles  and  more  from  Castelvetrano  to 
the  site  of  ancient  Selinus ;  *  the  road  descends  about 
five  hundred  feet  in  that  distance,  crossing  a  wide  plain, 
which,  as  the  traveller  approaches  the  sea-shore,  loses 
its  varied  charm  of  groves,  vineyards,  and  highly  culti- 
vated grain-fields.  We  saw  many  cork-trees,  the  first 
we  had  seen  in  Sicily,  and  in  the  bottom,  by  the  water- 
courses, we  beheld  the  "selinous,"or  wild  parsley,  which 
gave  its  name  to  the  city  whose  ruins  we  were  now  to 
behold. 

We  followed  the  Madiuni  River,  a  stream  that  in 
winter-time  only  sends  a  sluggish  current  across  flat 
lands  to  the  Mediterranean.    The  scene  becomes  deso- 


*Some   classical   dictionaries   erroneously  state  that   Castelvetrano 
occupies  the  site  of  ancient  Selinus. 


SELINUS  201 

late.  As  you  approach  the  sea  you  hear  the  muffled 
beating  of  the  surf  upon  the  sand,  the  wind  sighs 
among  the  sedges  and  reeds,  and  sea-gulls  fly  scream- 
ing overhead.  The  soil  is  unfruitful ;  gorse,  cacti, 
mimosae,  and  aloes  stand  stark  and  bare,  wind-swept. 
The  "  chippolazzo,"  a  noxious  bulb,  sends  up  faded 
and  sickly  blossoms  resembling  blighted  hyacinths ; 
"  porre  "  erects  its  spikes  of  ill- formed  flowerets  — 
plants  that  we  were  warned  not  to  handle,  for  both  are 
said  to  be  poisonous  to  the  touch.  The  curse  of  soli- 
tude and  desolation  is  on  the  land ;  myriads  of  snails 
infest  the  herbage,  clinging  to  stunted  palmettos,  and 
there  are  gruesome  plague-spots  on  all  the  vegetation. 
Wormwood,  which  our  guide  called  "  herba  bianca,"  a 
pale,  uncanny  -  looking  plant,  grows  everywhere,  and 
tawdry  pestilential  weeds  usurp  the  choicest  morsels 
of  ditch  and  ragged  highway. 

A  fit  setting,  all  this,  for  the  picture  of  ruin  that 
now  comes  in  view. 

One  hundred  feet  above  the  "  African  Sea,"  on  a 
table  -  land  that  sinks  gradually  to  the  west,  to  II 
Gorgo  di  Cotone — now  a  marshy  valley  said  to  have 
been  drained  by  Empedocles  to  rid  it  of  infection  in 
the  days  when  a  multitude  of  men  lived  along  its 
borders — upon  a  barren,  wind-swept  waste,  there  lie  in 
vast  confusion  the  broken  columns,  overthrown  walls, 
and  entablatures  of  three  Doric  temples.  As  one  ap- 
proaches them  the  magnitude  of  the  ruins  does  not 
at  first  impress  the  beholder,  but  upon  closer  inspec- 
tion the  colossal  proportions  of  the  stones  of  which 
they  are  composed,  and  the  bulk  and  weight  of  the 
prostrate  columns,  are  better  appreciated,  and  one  re- 
alizes their  grandeur,  their  stupendous  purport.     The 


202  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

thought  rushes  into  the  mind :  if  the  ancient  builders 
were  not  in  very  truth  a  race  of  giants,  they  built  like 
Titans,  playing  with  mechanical  forces,  lost  arts  to  the 
men  of  the  present  time. 

The  largest  of  the  three  temples,  supposed  to  have 
been  dedicated  to  Apollo,  was  built  about  the  begin- 
ning of  the  fifth  century  B.C.  It  was  never  com- 
pleted, its  columns  were  left  unfluted,  and  its  internal 
embellishment  was  probably  not  begun.  It  measured 
371  feet  in  length,  177  in  width,  including  the  steps 
and  stylobate  on  which  it  is  mounted.  That  is  to 
say,  it  had  a  frontage  equal  to  that  of  the  Madison 
Square  Garden,  and  a  depth  equal  to  the  frontage  of 
fifteen  ordinary  New  York  City  houses.  On  this  par- 
allelogram there  were  set  up,  in  the  peristyle,  forty-six 
huge  columns,  each  57-^  feet  in  height  (including  the 
capitals)  and  1 1  \  feet  in  diameter  at  the  base.  These 
columns  are  each  composed  of  five  drums  tapering 
successively  from  the  base  of  the  columns  upward 
from  1 1  \  to  7  feet  1 1  inches  at  the  neck,  and  each 
drum  is  more  than  ten  feet  in  height.  One  of  our 
party,  the  tallest  man,  placed  himself  by  one  of  them, 
and  although  he  stood  on  tip-toes  and  with  upstretched 
arms,  his  fingers  did  not  reach  within  two  feet  of 
the  top  of  the  monstrous  stone ;  it  would  take  five 
men  with  extended  arms  to  encompass  the  wonderful 
girth  of  the  chiselled  block.  The  ruins  of  this  temple 
are  more  confused  than  are  those  of  the  other  two. 
The  irregular,  chaotic  pile  of  blocks  and  drums  rises 
like  a  broken  and  disordered  mountain-crest,  upheaved 
from  grass-grown  earth,  or  like  a  mighty  reef  upborne 
above  the  smooth  sea.  One  can  appreciate  the  pur- 
port of  this  huge  confusion  only  by  calling  upon  the 


SELINUS  203 

imagination  to  picture  the  incalculable  force  of  the 
earthquake  that  wrecked  in  one  instant  of  time  a  col- 
ossal edifice  intended  by  its  builders  to  last  as  long  as 
the  world  itself  should  endure. 

"But  mighty  Jove  cuts  short,  with  great  disdain, 
The  long,  long  views  of  poor  designing  man." 

What  mind  can  adequately  conceive  the  idea  that 
this  temple  of  the  Sun  -  God  fell  into  shapelessness 
like  a  mole-hill  crushed  beneath  the  heel  of  a  plough- 
man ?  And  all  these  years  the  ruins  of  its  monstrous 
fabric  have  lain  where  they  were  lightly  tossed.  Na- 
tions have  come  and  gone — Greek,  Roman,  Byzan- 
tine, Saracen,  Norman,  Spaniard.  The  god  in  whose 
honor  the  temple  was  built  is  dead ;  but  there,  in 
the  midst  of  all  the  wreck,  are  vast  round  blocks  of 
stone,  some  of  them  unblemished  by  weather  and  un- 
touched of  time,  bearing  silent  witness  to  the  wonder- 
working skill,  the  deathless  genius  of  a  race  of  men 
whose  story  shall  be  as  familiar  as  household  words  to 
races  yet  unborn,  long  after  the  very  dust  into  which 
the  Temple  of  Apollo  is  crumbling  shall  have  been 
wafted  far  and  wide  across  the  Sicilian  plain. 

About  fifty  yards  to  the  south  of  the  Temple  of 
Apollo  (which  was  surpassed  in  size  only  by  the  Tem- 
ple of  Diana  at  Ephesus  and  that  of  the  Olympian 
Jupiter  at  Agrigentum)  there  are  the  ruins  of  a  tem- 
ple dedicated  to  which  one  of  the  old  divinities  is  not 
surely  known.  This  second  structure  was  of  much 
smaller  dimensions  than  the  edifice  above  described — 
viz.,  202  feet  6  inches  in  length,  79  feet  8  inches  in 
breadth,  and  had  twenty-two  columns  30  feet  4  inches 
in  height,  and  6  feet  3  inches  in  diameter  at  the  base. 


204  PICTURESQUE   SICILY 

When  the  earthquake  overturned  the  columns  of  this 
temple,  many  of  them  fell  outward  from  their  bases, 
and  the  frustra  of  some  of  them  lie  in  the  same  rela- 
tive position  they  occupied  when  standing.  This  ca- 
pricious action  of  the  seismic  wave  scattered  the  dis- 
jointed members  of  the  temple  more  widely  over  the 
surface  of  the  plain ;  but,  strange  to  say,  the  platform 
on  which  the  structure  stood,  wherever  it  can  be  seen 
amid  the  chaos  of  superimposed  blocks  and  drums, 
does  not  appear  to  have  been  rent  or  disrupted  by 
the  upheaval  of  the  ground.  This  fact  is  only  to  be 
accounted  for  by  imagining  that  there  was  no  undula- 
tory  motion  of  the  earth  at  this  point,  but  that  the 
temple  was  thrown  down  by  a  lateral,  horizontal  mo- 
tion, produced  at  right  angles  to  the  side  walls  of  the 
building.  A  sudden  movement  of  the  land  from  north 
to  south  tipped  the  columns  in  the  north  wall  to  the 
north ;  a  following  recovery  and  swing  from  south  to 
north,  which,  acting  in  unison  with  the  thrust  of  fall- 
ing superstructures,  felled  the  columns  in  the  south 
wall  so  that  they  lay  with  their  capitals  towards  the 
south.  No  pretence  is  made  of  actually  describing  the 
action  of  the  earthquake ;  but  the  appearance  of  the 
ruins  as  they  lie  upon  the  ground  suggests  this  ex- 
planation of  the  exhibition  of  the  forces  that  threw 
the  different  parts  of  the  structure  into  the  positions 
they  now  relatively  occupy.* 

*  While  we  are  inclined  to  admit  the  reasonableness  of  the  "earth- 
quake theory  "  of  the  overthrowing  of  the  temples  of  Selinus,  we  hold 
that  it  is  more  than  probable  that  the  vast  destruction  was  wrought  by 
the  Carthaginians,  who  attempted  to  utterly  destroy  the  frontier  city  of 
the  Siceliots.  This  they  did  by  turning  their  engines  of  war  and  other 
mechanical  devices  against  the  citadels  and  temples  of  the  doomed  city. 


SELINUS  205 

To  the  south  again,  fifty  yards  away,  are  the  ruins  of 
a  third  temple,  223  feet  3  inches  in  length,  83  feet  7 
inches  in  breadth,  the  columns  of  which  rose  to  the 
height  of  33  feet  6  inches,  and  are  7  feet  5  inches  in 
diameter  at  their  base.  At  the  southeast  angle  of  the 
front  of  this  temple  three  columns,  or  portions  of  them, 
are  still  standing,  but  on  the  north  side  of  the  build- 
ing all  the  drums  and  blocks  lie  in  regular  order,  ex- 
tending outward  from  the  steps  of  the  stylobate,  as  if 
arranged  for  the  reconstruction  of  the  building.  The 
columns,  capitals,  and  entablatures  of  this  edifice  were 
more  ornate,  more  richly  decorated,  than  the  members 
of  either  of  the  other  two  temples.  The  columns  are 
fluted,  the  capitals  exhibit  an  owl's-beak  moulding,  and 
in  1 83 1  some  very  beautiful  metopes,  carved  in  a  me- 
diocre style  of  Greek  art,  which  were  used  to  adorn 
the  entablature,  were  discovered  and  taken  to  the 
Museum  of  Palermo,  where  we  curiously  examined 
them. 

The  view  eastward  from  the  three  temples  (they  all 
face  the  rising  sun)  is  very  picturesque.  Beyond  the 
desolation  of  the  plain,  miles  and  miles  away,  a  great 
bay  makes  into  the  land,  and  on  the  farther  side  of 
the  blue  water  bluer  hills  rise  against  the  sky,  soar- 
ing higher  and  higher  to  the  mountains  of  central 
Sicily. 

Three-quarters  of  a  mile  to  the  west  of  the  three 
temples  the  ruins  of  the  acropolis  and  city  of  Selinus 
stand  beyond  II  Gorgo  di  Cotone.     Across  the  un- 

A  very  careful  study  of  the  condition  of  the  ruins  supplies  almost  incon- 
trovertible proof  that  the  latter  theory  is  as  reasonable  and  as  suscepti- 
ble of  proof  as  the  assumption  that  Selinus  was  destroyed  by  a  convul- 
sion of  nature. 


206  PICTURESQUE  SICILY 

wholesome  quagmire  we  took  our  way  over  a  bridge 
spanning  a  small  creek  which  discharges  a  pinched 
and  shallow  stream  during  the  rainy  season  into  the 
African  Sea.  From  the  bridge  a  cart-track  leads  up 
to  the  foot  of  a  crumbling  wall,  the  ramparts  of  the 
ancient  town,  passing  around  one  end  of  which  we 
come  to  the  platform  where,  ages  ago,  the  city  gate 
opened  towards  the  harbor,  which  is  now  choked  and 
filled  with  sand  and  mud.  We  passed  within  the  limits 
of  Selinus  and  walked  upon  a  pavement  over  which 
Grecian  and  Carthaginian  chariot  wheels  once  rolled, 
and  again  stood  in  the  midst  of  a  group  of  ruins,  the 
remains  of  four  temples  which  were  erected  within 
the  boundaries  of  the  city  itself. 

The  level  top  of  the  hill  upon  which  these  temples 
were  built  was  formerly  surrounded  by  walls,  and  this 
part  of  the  town,  the  acropolis,  was  traversed  by  two 
main  streets  running  north  and  south.  From  these 
avenues  others  extended  at  right  angles;  but  little  is 
to  be  seen  of  streets  or  houses  save  the  two  principal 
thoroughfares  and  certain  ruined  pavements  which 
were  excavated  during  the  present  century.  The  four 
temples  face  the  east,  as  do  the  three  already  de- 
scribed. That  one  nearest  to  the  sea,  but  fifty  yards 
from  the  bluffs  which  rise  boldly  from  a  beach  of 
sand,  is  139  feet  in  length  and  60  feet  in  breadth.  Its 
ruins,  which  lie  in  a  confused  heap,  have  been  partly 
cleared  of  the  sand  which  had  drifted  into  the  cella 
and  weeded  of  the  grass  and  palmettos  by  which  they 
were  hidden  from  sight  for  many  centuries. 

Across  a  street  which  runs  east  and  west  there  are 
the  remains  of  a  small  temple,  differing  broadly  in 
style  from  any  of  the  others.     It  had  Ionic  columns 


SELINUS  207 

and  Doric  entablatures,  and  was  of  diminutive  size, 
only  28£  feet  by  15  feet.  Its  total  height  was  but  14^ 
feet,  and  the  dainty  columns  measured  but  i£  feet  at 
the  base,  tapering  to  1  foot  in  diameter.  A  mere 
plaything  compared  with  the  Temple  of  Apollo,  the 
mighty  structure  thirteen  and  one -half  times  its  size. 
One  of  the  columns  of  the  latter  had  a  diameter  equal 
to  the  width  of  the  miniature  edifice,  which,  however, 
made  up  for  what  it  wanted  in  size  and  grandeur 
by  the  exquisite  decorations  with  which  it  was 
adorned. 

A  few  yards  to  the  north,  again,  are  the  ruins  of  a 
third  temple,  which,  like  all  the  rest,  except  the  one 
last  mentioned,  is  in  the  pure  Doric  style.  It  is  sup- 
posed to  have  been  dedicated  to  Hercules,  and  is  re- 
markable for  the  evidence  it  presents  that  the  Greeks 
painted  the  exteriors  of  their  temples  in  strongly  con- 
trasting colors.  Some  of  the  columns  and  part  of  the 
entablature  still  show  patches  of  blue,  red,  and  black 
pigments  laid  on  a  shell  of  plaster  or  stucco,  with 
which  this  temple,  and  doubtless  some  of  the  others, 
were  originally  finished. 

Beyond  these  temples  to  the  north  and  inland  ex- 
tended the  City  and  citadel,  and  from  the  vast  cumuli, 
the  mounds  and  barrows,  it  can  readily  be  learned  that 
in  the  days  of  its  glory  Selinus  was  a  city  fortress 
that  could  be  taken  only  by  an  overwhelming  force. 
Such  a  force,  an  army  of  one  hundred  thousand  men, 
did  Hannibal  Giskon  bring  against  Selinus  in  the  year 
409  B.C.,  and  the  proud  city — its  acropolis,  its  temples, 
its  harbors,  and  the  abodes  of  its  multitudes  of  citizens 
— was  given  over  to  the  destroyer.  The  magnificent 
city  became  "  the  abiding-place  of  dragons,  a  habita- 


208  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

tion  for  owls."  The  gods  deserted  its  shrines.  Its 
walls  and  battlements  crumbled  throughout  the  centu- 
ries, and  all  the  land,  once  the  scene  of  marvellous  en- 
terprise and  high  endeavor,  was  delivered  over  to 
"  Silence  and  slow  Time." 


XXIV* 
A  MYSTERIOUS  EXCURSION 

"Sleepless  Activities"  —  Trapani  at  Dawn  —  An  Uncanny 
Guide  —  Monte  San  Giuliano — The  Field  of  Hercules — 
"Gobbo  Brings  us  Luck" — "A  Guide-book  in  Breeches." 

There  are  two  hotels  in  Trapani.  If  the  traveller 
puts  up  for  the  night  at  one  of  them  he  will  wish  a 
thousand  times  before  morning  that  he  had  gone  to 
the  other.  If  he  be  a  student  of  Boswell's  immortal 
biography  he  may  recall  Dr.  Johnson's  pronuncia- 
miento  :  "  No  man  who  has  contrivance  enough  to  get 
himself  into  jail  will  go  to  sea  in  a  ship,"  and  for  the 
last  six  words,  in  bitterness  of  spirit  and  sleepless  ex- 
asperation, substitute  "  spend  the  night  in  a  Trapani 
hotel."  But  there  is  no  philosophy  in  dwelling  upon 
the  discomforts  of  travelling.  He  that  cannot  endure 
with  patience  and  good-nature  an  occasional  hardship 
had  best  hug  his  own  fire  and  sleep  o'  nights  under 
his  own  coverlid.  As  for  the  landlords  of  the  two 
Trapani  inns  —  may  they  make  their  own  beds  and 
be  compelled  to  lie  in  them !  "  Time  and  the  hour 
runs  through  the  roughest  day,"  or  night,  and  with 
daybreak  came  deliverance  from  the  filthy  precincts 

*  Chapters  XXIV.  and  XXV.  were  written  later  than  those  which 
precede  and  follow  them — in  April,  when  we  returned  to  Sicily  on  a 
second  visit,  and  especially  to  make  the  ascent  of  Monte  San  Giuliano. 


2IO  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

of  an  evil -smelling  tavern,  whose  hapless  guests  are 
not  so  sure  of  feeding  as  of  being  fed  upon. 

At  the  first  gray  of  dawn,  on  a  fine  morning,  we 
found  our  way  stumblingly,  yawning  and  blinking, 
down  a  creaking,  winding  stairway  to  the  door  of  the 
albergo,  where  a  drowsy  publican  sat  at  the  receipt  of 
custom.  To  him  we  paid  our  reckoning,  and,  without 
so  much  as  asking  for  a  cup  of  coffee,  fled  from  sight 
of  him  and  his  environment,  as  glad  to  be  gone  as 
were  Bunyan's  pilgrims  what  time  they  escaped  from 
Doubting  Castle.  At  the  corner  of  the  next  street 
we  found  awaiting  our  appearance  a  landau  with  three 
horses  harnessed  abreast  like  the  coursers  of  a  Grecian 
chariot.  Entering  the  vehicle,  we  were  driven  away  from 
the  scene  of  our  trials  and  tribulations ;  but  presently 
our  vetturino  drew  up  his  horses  at  a  baker's  shop, 
where,  for  forty  centesimi,  we  bought  two  new-made 
loaves  of  sweet  white  bread.  From  a  fruit-stand  across 
the  way  we  selected  half  a  dozen  oranges,  with  ruddy 
blushes  on  their  cheeks,  as  rare  and  ripe  and  luscious 
as  the  Sicilian  sun  and  soil  can  produce.  What  more 
did  we  want  ?  We  were  alive,  and  it  was  a  luxury  to 
live  on  such  a  morning ;  the  air  was  tonic  enough  had 
our  appetites  needed  whetting. 

With  pistol -like  cracking  of  whip,  which  set  our 
three  horses  a-prancing  like  the  steeds  of  Diomede, 
our  cocchiere  "  gave  himself  to  the  road."  Merrily  on 
we  rattled  out  of  town  towards  the  east  beyond  the 
limits  of  the  city,  to  the  foot  of  Monte  San  Giuliano, 
where  our  road  began  its  upward  climb  of  seven  miles. 

Near  an  ancient  church  we  were  aware  of  a  very 
diminutive  dwarf,  who  stood  by  the  wayside  holding 
up  a  warning  hand,  as  if  to  stay  our  farther  progress. 


A  MYSTERIOUS    EXCURSION  211 

He  was  misshapen,  uncouth,  as  twisted  as  one  of  the 
gnarled  and  knotted  olive-trees  that  grew  near  the  spot 
where  he  had  taken  his  stand  to  challenge  us.  He  evi- 
dently knew  of  our  coming.  Our  driver  heeded  his 
signal  to  halt ;  indeed,  the  three  horses  seemed  instinc- 
tively to  obey  the  peremptory  gesture  of  the  prodigy. 
His  dwarfship  nodded  good-naturedly,  reassuringly  to 
us,  who  regarded  him  curiously  and  not  without  rever- 
ence, due  to  his  sudden  and  surprising  apparition.  He 
advanced  in  silence  to  the  side  of  the  vettura,  and, 
without  receiving  a  word  of  invitation,  or  waiting  for 
it,  drew  himself  up,  baboon-like,  by  the  mere  strength 
of  his  long,  uncanny  arms  to  the  box-seat,  whence  he 
grinned  pleasantly  over  his  shoulder  at  us,  and  in  a  tone 
of  command  ordered  the  driver  to  give  the  whip  to  his 
horses.  In  such  fashion  we  began  our  journey  up  the 
ancient  mountain,  under  the  care  and  guidance  of  as 
queer  and  mysterious  a  creature  as  ever  slaved  for  an 
enchanter  or  cracked  jokes  for  a  king  in  the  good  old 
days  when  dwarfs  and  other  merry  men  found  their 
way  to  courts  to  grace  festivals  or  dandle  cap  and 
bells.  Our  Sicilian  guide  presently,  standing  up  in  the 
carriage,  reached  out  his  hand  and  laid  it  gently  and 
with  marked  respect  upon  the  humped  back  of  the 
amiable  monster;  then,  seating  himself  again,  said  in 
an  impressive  whisper,  "  Gobbo,  he  brings  us  luck." 

If  the  reader  will  have  patience  while  it  is  explained 
to  him  under  what  circumstances  the  Americano  wit- 
nessed the  performance  of  the  mystic  ceremony  above 
described,  he  may  be  able  to  appreciate  why  this  most 
excellent  fooling  produced  a  somewhat  weird,  but 
withal  a  pleasantly  superstitious,  impression  upon  the 
imagination  of  even  so  sceptical  a  modern  as  a  travel- 


212  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

ler  from  the  New  World.  We  had  set  out  from  a 
city  which  Virgil  would  have  us  believe  was  founded 
by  ;£neas  and  his  Trojans,  where,  as  Dante  tells  us, 
old  Anchises  M  finio  la  lunga  etade,"  died,  and  was 
buried  ;  where,  on  his  return  from  Carthage,  leaving 
Dido  all  forlorn  and  forsaken,  pious  JEneas  celebrated 
games  in  honor  of  his  father's  ghost,  and  whence  he 
made  a  pilgrimage  to  the  shrine  of  his  mother,  Venus, 
on  the  summit  of  the  mountain  named  after  Eryx, 
son  of  Butes,  the  mighty  wrestler,  whom  Hercules 
overcame  what  time  that  son  of  Jupiter  drove  the 
stolen  herds  of  Geryon  lowing  along  the  far  Sicilian 
shore.  In  the  city  of  Eryx,  at  the  top  of  Monte  San 
Giuliano,  as  the  mountain  Eryx  is  called  to-day,  we 
had  been  told,  and  did  verily  believe,  that  we  should 
find  a  shrine  of  Venus-Erycina  on  the  former  site  of  a 
temple  of  Astarte — Astarte,  to  whom  King  Solomon's 
friend,  Hiram  of  Tyre,  and  his  country-woman  Dido, 
Queen  of  Carthage,  offered  sacrifices  on  altars  whose 
very  stones  have  ages  long  gone  crumbled  into  dust. 
From  the  place  where  we  encountered  our  unbidden 
fellow-passenger  we  could  see  the  island,  the  goal  in 
the  boat  -  races  given  in  honor  of  the  manes  of  An- 
chises, and  it  did  not  shock  our  belief  in  the  truth  of 
Virgil's  story  to  learn  that  the  sailors  and  harbor-men 
of  to-day  know  the  rock  only  by  its  modern  name, 
"  asinello" — id  est,  "  the  ass."  On  the  mountain  -  side 
before  us  were  ruins,  said  to  be  of  temples,  where  al- 
tars had  smoked  with  sacrifices  to  Baal,  where  pious 
Carthaginians  had  caused  their  children  to  pass  through 
the  fire,  and  where  Moloch  and  Melkarte  had  been 
worshipped  with  bloody  rites.  This  we  could  believe, 
for  in    he  blue  distance  beyond  the  foot-hills  of  Eryx 


A  MYSTERIOUS    EXCURSION  21 3 

we  beheld  the  mountain  where  dwelt  Phalaris,  for 
whom  Perillus  made  the  brazen  bull  which  annually- 
devoured  its  hecatombs  of  human  victims.  All  this 
we  knew  or  guessed,  and  how  much  was  not  left  to 
the  imagination  concerning  the  mysterious  city  we  had 
set  out  to  visit  ? 

What  wonder,  then,  if  it  seemed  to  us  entirely  ap- 
propriate and  in  the  natural  order  of  the  day's  events, 
to  be  met  upon  the  threshold  of  our  adventure  by  a 
messenger  from  the  powers  beyond,  sent  to  lead  us  to 
the  mysteries  we  might  seek  in  vain  alone  and  unat- 
tended. Moreover,  Gobbo  added  to  the  romance  and 
picturesque  detail  of  the  pilgrimage.  It  was  charm- 
ingly fantastic  to  let  the  imagination  play  around  him, 
especially  in  such  a  place.  On  the  highway  to  the 
shrine  of  Venus  the  sight  of  him  suggested  humorous 
fancies  of  Bottom  and  Titania,  Beauty  and  the  Beast. 
He  seemed  to  us  to  be  a  familiar  spirit  whom  we  had 
often  met  before,  in  dreamland  belike,  of  whom  we 
had  read  many  times  and  oft  in  the  dear  old  but  ever- 
new  stories  of  "Once  upon  a  time." 

The  boldly  surveyed,  firmly  laid  highway  of  Monte 
San  Giuliano  crawls  upward  in  many  curves  and  cir- 
cumbendibuses. Forty  times  or  more  does  this  trail 
of  a  serpent  upon  the  rock  of  Eryx  double  back  upon 
itself,  now  crawling  around  the  faces  of  cliffs,  gliding 
along  the  tops  of  crag  and  precipice,  now  hiding  itself 
in  the  shadows  of  gorge  and  caflon,  whence  it  emerges 
again  to  encircle  jutting  masses  of  rock  that  stand 
boldly  out  from  the  mountain-side.  So  favorable  are 
all  the  gradients,  so  well  calculated  all  the  curves  of 
this  masterpiece  of  road-building,  that  the  ascent  may 
be  made  in  comfort  and  expeditiously,  horses  being 


214  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

able  to  proceed  for  the  greater  part  of  the  distance, 
seven  miles,  at  a  jog-trot. 

A  mile  from  the  foot  of  the  mountain  we  overtook  a 
pedestrian,  whose  polite  salute  and  cheery  "  Buon  gi- 
orno"  prompted  us  to  offer  him  a  seat  in  our  vettura, 
He  accepted  our  invitation,  explaining  that  he  had 
missed  the  "  posta  "  which  leaves  Trapani  every  day 
before  daylight.  Our  companion  proved  to  be  Sig- 
nor  Guerreri,  "  Ispettore  Domaniali,"  that  is  to  say, 
the  Inspector  of  Government  Domain,  who  was  on  his 
way  to  his  official  residence  in  the  city  we  proposed  to 
visit  and  explore.  He  was  able,  by  reason  of  much 
study  of  books  and  documents  and  from  personal  ob- 
servation, to  give  us  unlimited  information  concerning 
the  ancient,  mediaeval,  and  modern  history  of  Eryx  and 
its  inhabitants,  information  which  is  not  to  be  readily 
acquired  by  ordinary  travellers.  We  congratulated 
ourselves  upon  being  able  to  exchange  compliments 
with  such  a  distinguished  guest,  who,  if  not  indeed  a 
priest  of  Astarte  nor  the  Guardian  of  the  Temple  of 
Venus,  was  no  less  a  personage  than  the  Warden  of 
the  Marches  of  Mount  Eryx.  Gobbo  had  brought  us 
luck !  We  proceeded  merrily,  and  with  much  pomp 
and  circumstance,  upward  on  our  journey,  enjoying  a 
grand  view  of  the  plain  of  Hercules,  which,  as  we  as- 
cended higher  and  higher  up  the  mountain-side,  seemed 
to  unroll  and  spread  out  beneath  us  like  a  great  map. 
We  looked  over  a  land  of  vineyards,  of  orange,  lemon, 
and  olive  groves,  of  meadows  and  wheat-fields,  varied 
by  golden-brown  plantations  where  the  soil  was  newly 
ploughed. 

The  base  of  the  mountain  was  margined  by  rich 
fields   of    crimson    "  peperone "   and   trefolia   in    full 


A   MYSTERIOUS    EXCURSION  21 5 

bloom,  and  golden  senape  mixed  with  scarlet  poppies. 
Upon  the  mountain-side  grew  masses  of  planta  genes- 
ta,  with  its  yellow  blossoms,  such  as  the  Plantagenets 
of  England  wore  so  proudly  in  their  bonnets,  and 
gorse,  the  dark  hue  of  which  accented  the  tender  green 
of  sumach,  artemisia,  wild  asparagus,  belladonna,  and 
camamilla.  There  were  ferns  in  endless  variety,  "  fiore 
di  mattina,"  our  own  morning-glories,  still  asleep,  and 
cyclamen.  A  world,  a  sea,  of  flowers  of  brightest 
colors. 

From  time  to  time  we  exchanged  greetings  with 
herdsmen  and  goatherds  seated  by  the  road-side  break- 
ing their  long  fast,  making  their  first  meal  on  coarse, 
dry  bread.  In  hooded  cloaks  they  looked  more  like 
Berber  or  Moorish  mountaineers  than  men  of  Euro- 
pean blood  ;  and  all  of  them  carried  pottery  flagons 
or  crocks  of  classic  shape  in  which  to  mix  their  wine 
and  water,  and  wore  sandals  of  hide  or  goatskin  of  the 
same  shape  and  fashion  shown  in  ancient  Greek  or 
Roman  sculptures. 

At  the  foot  of  the  mountain  we  had  seen  figs  as 
large  as  ripe  plums  upon  the  trees;  at  a  height  of  one 
thousand  feet  above  the  plain  the  trees  were  but  put- 
ting forth  their  leaves.  The  air  had  grown  colder,  few- 
er flowers  were  blooming,  and  we  lost  sight  of  many 
varieties  that  love  the  warmer  sunlight  of  the  plains. 
The  upper  range  and  cliffs  of  Eryx  are  draped  with 
heather,  amid  which  roam  flocks  of  sheep,  watched 
by  shepherds  carrying  long  pastoral  crooks,  clad  in 
sheepskin  coats  and  trousers,  picturesque  and  picture- 
inspiring  subjects  for  artists  in  search  of  classic  models. 
Such  figures  were  to  be  seen  in  the  old,  old  times, 
when  Acestes,  guarding  his  flocks  in  Eryx,  saw  with 


2l6  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

wonder  the  return  of  the  Trojans'  ships  from  the  Lib- 
yan shores.  For  although  the  times  have  changed, 
the  races  of  men  that  inhabit  Eryx  have  not  changed 
with  them,  at  least  not  in  dress  and  manner  of  life,  if 
indeed  in  mind  or  habit  of  thought. 

Suddenly  we  experienced  a  rapid  decline  in  tem- 
perature, and  while  we  were  huddling  ourselves  into 
our  overcoats  a  sea-fog  swept  around  the  northwest  face 
of  the  mountain  and  enveloped  us  in  a  dense  white 
mantle.  The  magic  of  the  change  was  most  impres- 
sive, not  to  say  awe-inspiring.  But  a  moment  before 
we  were  in  the  world  and  of  it ;  then,  in  the  twinkling 
of  an  eye,  the  far -ranging  vision  of  mountains,  plain, 
and  sea  was  blotted  out,  and  we  seemed  to  be  caught 
up  to  sublimer  heights,  to  journey  on  through  silent 
chaos,  where  all  space,  as  at  "  the  beginning,"  was  void 
and  without  form.  As  suddenly  as  it  overcame  us  the 
fog  lifted  and  was  wafted  away,  the  sunlight  shone 
again,  and  then  again  the  fog.  But  ere  it  closed  in 
upon  us  we  made  out,  doubtingly,  a  picture  of  shining 
battlements,  towers,  and  castle  walls,  all  apparently 
upborne  on  clouds  that  concealed  the  peaks  and  pin- 
nacles of  Eryx.  For  one  moment  the  pageant  as- 
sumed definite  and  earthly  shape ;  but  even  as  we 
gazed  at  it  the  aerial  citadel  dissolved  and  disappeared 
like  the  passing  of  a  glorious  vision,  and  the  mists,  up- 
lifted, revealed  the  earth,  the  sunny  plain,  the  planta- 
tions, and  the  haunts  of  men. 

As  we  approached  the  summit  the  steep  slopes  of 
the  mountain-side  rose  to  the  base  of  crags  and  per- 
pendicular escarpments  resembling  stupendous  walls, 
founded  upon  and  growing  from  the  everlasting  rock. 
Finding  our  way  slowly  through  the  fog,  and  skirting 


A  MYSTERIOUS    EXCURSION  217 

these  cyclopean  ruins,  we  came  to  a  turn  in  the  road. 
The  cocchiere  cracked  his  whip,  the  jaded  horses  sprang 
forward  in  a  final  burst  of  speed,  and,  smiting  sparks 
from  the  pavement,  scrambled  up  a  steep  bit  of  road 
between  two  massive  bastions.  Gobbo  turned,  and, 
smiling  upon  us  cheerily,  shouted  "  Eccoci !"  as  we 
passed  beneath  the  pointed  arch  of  a  giant  gateway 
and  entered  the  precincts  of  the  most  ancient  city  in 
Sicily. 

Turning  to  the  right,  into  a  small  square,  an  irregu- 
lar piazza,  on  which  were  stables,  a  blacksmith's  forge, 
and  a  half-ruined  locanda  (described  in  guide-books  as 
the  principal  inn  of  the  city  of  Monte  San  Giuliano), 
we  halted  ;  our  steeds,  panting  after  their  mad  gallop, 
reeking  and  steaming  like  creatures  of  the  mist  about 
to  vanish,  dissolved  in  clouds.  A  crowd  of  muffled 
and  veiled  figures,  materializing  out  of  the  fog,  gath- 
ered around  our  vettura,  saluting  "  II  Ispettore  "  re- 
spectfully, but  casting  searching  glances  at  his  com- 
panions, "  The  Strangers,"  as  if  bidding  them  stand 
and  unfold  themselves.  Gobbo  clambered  down  from 
his  seat  on  the  box,  opened  the  door  of  the  landau, 
and,  bowing  profoundly,  invited  us  to  alight.  Seeing 
which,  the  silent  bystanders  did  us  reverence,  thereby, 
as  we  were  fain  to  hope,  expressing  their  approval  of 
our  presence,  and  according  to  us  the  freedom  of  their 
municipality. 

In  such  state,  so  attended  and  thus  welcomed,  did 
we  make  "joyous  entrance"  into  the  ancient  city  on 
Mount  Eryx,  a  city  sacred  to  Venus ! 


XXV 

A  CITY  IN   CLOUD-LAND 

Three  Gates  of  Eryx — Astarte,  Aphrodite,  Venus,  Madonna — 
Cyclopean  Masonry — "  A  Street  in  Bagdad"— The  Castle  of 
Eryx — Shrine  of  Venus-Erycina— Return  to  Earth. 

Three  great  gateways  pierce  the  walls  of  Eryx ; 
that  one  by  which  we  had  entered  is  called  "  The  Tra- 
pani  Gate."  "The  Gate  of  the  Heralds"  is  close  to 
the  "  Mother  Church  " — Matrice — and,  therefore,  often 
spoken  of  as  La  Porta  del  Carmine.  At  "  The  Gate  of 
the  Sword  "  occurred  the  massacre  of  the  French  dur 
ing  the  Sicilian  Vespers,  and  many  unholy  legends  of 
cruelty  haunt  the  shadows  of  its  grim  tower  and  the 
glowering  recesses  of  its  most  unchristian  arches, 
which  are  characteristically  Saracen  in  model  and 
construction.  It  was  not  alone  the  commanding  and 
isolated  site  of  this  acropolis,  surrounded  as  it  is  by 
walls,  moats,  and  natural  precipices,  that,  in  all  ages, 
have  rendered  Eryx  "  inexpugnable."  Its  inhabitants 
trusted  loyally  to  the  protection  of  divinities  that 
were  fabled  to  have  their  abodes  in  the  sacred  pre- 
cincts consecrated  to  them  in  the  uppermost  courts  of 
the  Citadel,  where,  since  the  morning  of  the  world, 
have  stood  successively  a  temple  of  Astarte,  of  Aphro- 
dite, of  Venus-  Erycina,  and,  in  these  later  days,  a 
shrine   of   the    Holy   Madonna.     The    beauty-loving 


A   CITY   IN    CLOUD-LAND  219 

Greeks,  finding  in  Astarte  the  prototype  of  one  of 
their  own  goddesses,  made  a  place  for  her  in  their  new 
mythology,  under  the  name  of  Aphrodite  ;  her  the 
Romans  renamed  Venus,  the  mother  of  their  ancestor 
JEneas,  and  so  greatly  venerated  in  Mount  Eryx  was 
this  loveliest  of  all  pagan  divinities  that  the  early 
Christians  could  not  find  it  in  their  hearts  to  banish 
the  Goddess  of  Love  to  the  limbo  to  which  they 
ruthlessly  consigned  the  less  bewitching  attendants  of 
Jove's  starry  court.  Therefore,  as  pagan  priests  had 
paid  divine  honor  to  Astarte,  Aphrodite,  Venus,  so  in 
time  did  Christian  ministers  bow  themselves  at  the 
shrine  consecrated  to  their  ideal  of  womanly  grace 
and  loveliness,  erecting  on  Mount  Eryx  an  altar  to 
the  "  Madonna  of  all  the  Graces."  The  priestesses  of 
Astarte  became  in  time  Vestal  Virgins,  and  these, 
after  many  centuries,  were  succeeded  by  a  sisterhood 
of  holy  nuns. 

Eager  to  begin  at  the  very  beginning  of  things  histori- 
cal, we  followed  our  guide  to  the  Gate  of  the  Sword. 
A  pointed  archway  proclaims  its  Saracenic  or  Nor- 
man origin.  Beneath  the  impost  of  the  arch  are  lay- 
ers of  confused  and  irregular  masonry  of  unknown 
workmanship,  probably  of  Roman  construction.  To 
the  right  of  the  gateway,  constructed  of  cyclopean 
blocks,  is  a  square  bastion,  the  corner-stones  of  which, 
at  least,  were  laid  nearly  thirty  centuries  ago.  Who 
laid  them  there?  What  men  installed  them  in  the 
places  where — protected  from  the  sun  and  the  rain  by 
mounds  of  earth  and  superimposed  masonry  —  they 
have  lain  buried  out  of  sight  until  resurrected  by 
nineteenth  -  century  antiquity  hunters?  We  seek  in 
vain  to  know  their  history,  and  but  tease  imagination 


220  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

in  endeavoring  to  solve  the  mystery  of  their  unwrit- 
ten, unchiselled  story. 

From  the  Gate  of  the  Sword  we  found  our  way  to 
the  Cathedral  of  Monte  San  Giuliano,  recently  re- 
stored, but  of  which  the  west  bays  are  ancient.  The 
portico  and  vestibule  of  this  otherwise  unattractive 
edifice  are  as  beautiful  specimens  of  Saracenic-Nor- 
man architecture  as  are  to  be  seen  in  Europe,  and  the 
people  gathered  in  the  open  space  before  II  Duomo 
and  on  the  steps  of  the  portico  were  as  Oriental  in  as- 
pect as  the  folk  one  may  see  across  the  water  in  Tunis 
or  Biskra  at  the  door  of  a  mosque. 

From  the  cathedral  we  followed  the  windings  of  a 
very  picturesque  street,  and  a  corner  or  two  away 
came  to  the  Monastery  of  San  Pietro,  which  we  could 
easily  believe  had  been  at  one  time  a  Moorish  palace. 
A  pointed  archway  carried  a  covered  bridge — a  "  Bridge 
of  Sighs  "  in  miniature — from  the  dormitories  of  the 
monks  over  the  causeway  to  a  little  mosque-like  chap- 
el, and  through  the  arch,  down  the  street,  we  could 
see  decorated  gables,  lattices,  and  windows  with  curled 
and  twining  iron  bars,  quaint  porches,  and  quainter 
porticos  of  carved  pillars  supporting  balconies  orna- 
mented with  Arabesque  and  Norman  designs.  Far- 
ther down  the  rambling  thoroughfare,  in  the  side  wall 
of  a  palace  that  trespassed  boldly  on  the  roadway,  a 
richly  carved  casement  suggested  a  window  of  the  Al- 
hambra  at  Granada.  This  peep  was  charmingly  pict- 
uresque ;  it  recalled  a  picture  of  a  street  in  Bagdad, 
one  of  the  wood-cuts  in  our  well-thumbed,  dog-eared 
copy  of  The  Arabian  Nights,  and  it  needed  but 
turbans  and  Oriental  gowns  to  metamorphose  the 
passers-by  into  Abdallahs  of  the  land  or  Sindbads  of 


A   CITY   IN   CLOUD-LAND  221 

the  sea.  What  wonder,  therefore,  that  we  lingered 
long  day-dreaming  near  this  "bit"  so  Oriental  in 
design  and  spirit,  hoping  actually  to  behold  Aladdin, 
and  to  hear  the  street-cry  "  New  lamps  for  old  !" 

Along  the  winding  streets,  through  the  golden  fog 
which  added  mystery  to  our  strange  and  bewildering 
surroundings,  stopping  now  to  examine  an  old  and 
moss-grown  arched  gateway,  or  to  admire  the  carv- 
ings on  porticos  or  double  lancet  windows,  now  to 
inspect  the  facade  of  a  chapel  or  a  mediaeval  palace, 
we  found  our  way,  thanks  to  the  guidance  of  II  Is- 
pettore,  to  the  Piazza  di  Municipio,  where,  curious  to 
think  of  it,  we  beheld  the  municipal  theatre  of  a  city 
seated  among  the  clouds  on  the  top  of  a  mountain 
half  a  mile  in  height.  From  the  piazza  we  began  to 
ascend  to  the  higher  level  of  the  rock,  on  the  verge  of 
which  stands  an  ancient  ivy-clad  castle,  founded,  so 
runs  tradition,  by  Daedalus,  the  father  of  Icarus.  We 
trustingly  took  our  guide's  word  for  it  that  there  was 
a  castle  somewhere  above  and  beyond  us,  and  contin- 
ued on  upward  through  the  mist,  which,  as  we  ascend- 
ed, became  more  transparent  and  filmy,  until  we  felt 
the  warmth  of  the  noon-day  sun,  and  beheld  its  image, 
a  silver  bowl  floating  high  above  the  haze. 

We  left  the  houses  behind  us,  and,  entering  a  garden, 
explored  its  paths  winding  between  hedges  of  white- 
thorn in  blossom,  and,  significant  of  the  meeting  of 
the  temperate  and  tropical  zones,  fichi  d'  India  and 
cacti.  We  made  our  way  amid  trees  and  shrub- 
bery to  an  open  space  in  the  centre  of  the  garden, 
where  we  sat  down  to  rest  on  a  stone  settle  in  the 
midst  of  beds  of  roses,  where  were  palms,  flowering 
aloes,  giant  euphorbia,  where  ripe  fruit  hung  ungath- 


222  PICTURESQUE   SICILY 

ered  on  blossoming  orange-trees,  where  there  were 
laurels  and  pomegranates,  fig,  almond,  and  cherry  trees, 
great  pines,  ilex  and  pinnated  oak,  beech  and  chest- 
nut, bamboo,  mulberry ;  where  wistaria,  morning-glo- 
ries, Virginia-creepers,  and  bougainvillea  disputed  with 
the  ivy  for  possession  of  the  trellises  and  garden-walls. 
Bewildering  and  wonderful  confusion  ©f  things  botani- 
cal, setting  at  naught  the  seasons  and  the  order  of 
nature,  for  in  that  small  enclosure  were  to  be  seen 
growing  in  the  open  air  all  species  and  varieties  of 
plants  collected  from  all  latitudes  between  Sahara  and 
the  Baltic  Sea. 

As  we  sat  musing,  expectant,  the  mist  dissolved. 
The  sunlight  glorified  the  place.  And  there,  just  be- 
yond the  greenery  overlooking  the  garden,  arose  the 
mysterious  castle,  its  gray  walls  wet  with  fog,  glisten- 
ing like  frosted  silver  in  the  intense  light  of  the  April 
sun.  Below  it  swept  tossing  cataracts  of  cloud,  the 
rock  from  which  it  rose  into  the  blue  sky  floated  like 
an  island  in  a  sea  of  snow-white  foam,  but  nowhere 
else  in  all  space  was  there  wrack  or  vestige  of  the 
human  under-world  whence  we  had  ventured  on  our 
pilgrimage  to  the  ancient  abode  of  pagan  gods. 
Across  the  yoke  of  the  mountain,  from  precipice  to 
precipice,  plunging  downward  on  each  side  of  the 
fortress  into  the  sea  of  mist,  was  a  deep  moat  cut  in 
the  living  rock. 

So  much  we  had  time  to  note,  and  then  the  clouds 
swept  across  the  picture,  and  the  vision  disappeared. 
So  for  hours,  while  we  haunted  the  precincts  of  the 
castle,  it  appeared  and  disappeared,  to  reappear  and 
vanish  momently,  as  the  wind,  the  shepherd  of  the 
clouds,  drove  his  flocks  landward  from  the  sea. 


A   CITY   IN   CLOUD-LAND  223 

Curious  to  know  more  of  the  form  and  contents  of 
the  Castle  of  Monte  San  Giuliano,  we  found  our  way 
out  of  the  garden  down  to  an  open  space  whence  a 
causeway  led  up  from  the  city  to  its  citadel.  Ascend- 
ing this  steep  approach,  with  the  castle  walls  on  our 
left  and  a  precipice  on  our  right  hand,  we  came  to  the 
main  entrance  of  the  tower  we  had  seen  from  our  seat 
in  the  garden.  We  knocked  loudly,  boldly  summoning 
the  warden  to  admit  us.  This  he  did  by  opening  a 
small  wicket-gate,  and,  entering  in,  we  found  ourselves 
in  a  part  of  the  edifice  which  to-day  is  used  as  a 
prison.  Passing  through  a  series  of  gloomy,  vaulted 
chambers,  we  came  to  the  castle  court -yard,  grass- 
grown  and  covered  with  rubbish  and  fragments  of 
ruined  walls.  Gates  and  doors  were  opened  to  admit 
us,  and  closed  behind  us  by  the  warden,  whose  large 
bunch  of  curious  antique  keys  jangled  at  his  belt  as 
he  led  the  way.  At  last  we  entered  the  precincts  of 
a  temple,  invaded  the  "  holy  of  holies,"  where  an- 
ciently had  stood  the  altar  of  Venus- Erycina. 

Ascending  a  flight  of  ruined  steps  we  passed  into 
the  court-yard,  a  forsaken  garden,  where,  in  the  midst 
of  a  wilderness  of  greenery,  we  discovered  an  ancient 
well,  around  the  edge  of  which  feathery  grasses  trem- 
bled in  the  gentle  breeze,  and  nodding  flowers  peep- 
ing timorously  below  beheld  their  pretty  faces  mir- 
rored in  the  crystal  water  at  the  bottom.  Clinging 
to  moss-covered  stones  and  rooted  in  the  crevices  of 
the  masonry  there  hung  graceful  festoons  and  knots 
of  "  maidenhair  "  (Capillus  Veneris),  which  doubtless 
had  suggested  the  name  "  The  Bath  of  Venus." 

Mounting  the  wall  of  the  court  -  yard  we  looked 
down  into  a  chasm,  across  which  once  hung  a  wonder- 


224  PICTURESQUE  SICILY 

ful  bridge,  a  work  of  enchantment,  according  to  an 
early  legend,  and  to-day,  in  corroboration  of  the  tale, 
called  "  II  Ponte  del  Diavolo."  In  ancient  times  the 
span  was  known  as  the  "  Arch  of  Daedalus."  Wheth- 
er the  Diabolos  of  monkish  lore  or  Daedalus  of  old 
built  the  bridge  we  do  not  pretend  to  be  able  to  de- 
cide. We  merely  record  the  fact  that  in  Sicilian  dia- 
lect the  sound  of  Daedalus  runs  trippingly  into  that 
of  Diavolo.  Perhaps  the  unclassical  inhabitants  of 
Monte  San  Giuliano  (not  knowing  who  the  Diavolo 
Daedalus  was)  have  given  their  arch  enemy  more  than 
his  due,  seeing  that  the  bridge  was  built  long  before 
"  that  old  serpent "  was  heard  of — at  least,  so  far  to 
the  westward  of  his  original  bailiwick,  the  Garden  of 
Eden. 

Outside  of  the  court-yard  we  climbed  to  the  top  of 
a  ruined  tower  poised  on  the  edge  of  a  cliff,  whence 
we  caught  glimpses  through  the  fog  of  crags  and 
rocks  far  below  us.  Once  as  we  looked  the  mists 
lifted  in  the  east,  and  we  obtained  a  fleeting  but  mag- 
nificent view  of  all  the  country  -  side  and  the  sea, 
stretching  far  to  the  north  and  the  northeast.  Con- 
fronting us  was  the  lofty  peak  of  San  Vito,  and  tow- 
ards the  south,  in  the  order  named,  Saragio,  Laccie, 
San  Barnaba,  and  Rocca-corvo,  grand  mountain-peaks 
all  of  them.  Close  at  hand,  lower  than  Monte  San 
Giuliano,  the  promontory  of  Cofano  extends  its  mas- 
sive, adder-shaped  head  into  the  Tyrrhenian  Sea.  A 
grand  and  wonderful  spectacle,  but  quickly  gone ! 
Again  the  fog  came  down  upon  us,  therefore,  we  can 
but  faintly  imagine  all  the  glory  of  the  prospect  which 
is  revealed  to  those  who  stand  upon  the  summit  of 
Mount  Eryx  on  a  perfectly  clear  day. 


A  CITY   IN   CLOUD-LAND  225 

Continuing  our  explorations,  we  passed  through 
bowers  and  trellises  overgrown  with  vines,  threaded 
mazes  and  secret  passages  that  led  us  into  giant  tow- 
ers and  lofty,  roofless  halls,  ventured  into  the  gloomy 
recesses  of  keep  and  donjon,  climbed  broken  stair- 
ways to  crumbling  battlements  and  ruined  platforms, 
where,  ages  ago,  armored  men  kept  watch  and  ward. 
The  romance  of  the  place,  the  weird  picturesqueness 
of  all  we  saw,  cast  a  potent  spell  upon  us,  tempted  us 
on  and  on,  and  we  wandered  here  and  there,  up  and 
down,  as  if  vainly  seeking  an  exit  from  a  clueless  laby- 
rinth, forgetful  of  the  magic  word  that  alone  could 
open  passage  for  us  to  the  outer  world.  How  long 
we  might  have  tarried  in  this  romance-inspiring,  su- 
perstition-awakening spot  we  cannot  tell.  Certainly 
the  setting  sun  had  found  us  there  had  not  II  Ispet- 
tore,  practical  man  of  action  and  of  this  world,  looked 
at  his  time-piece,  and,  remembering,  uttered  the  for- 
gotten "  open  sesame,"  Colazione !  (breakfast).  In 
the  twinkling  of  an  eye  we  came  back  to  every-day 
existence,  and  discovered  that  we  were  very  hungry. 
Hunger  lent  us  wings.  Our  long  fast  served  to  clear 
our  brains  of  vaporing  conceits,  of  pagan  goddesses, 
mediaeval  enchanters,  and  the  like,  and  we  made  haste 
to  be  gone,  to  repair  the  waste  of  tissue,  to  satisfy 
the  cravings  of  three  nineteenth-century  appetites. 

At  the  official  residence  of  the  companion  of  our 
morning  rambles  we  found  collazione  waiting  for  us, 
and  never  did  hot  coffee  and  sundry  viands  of  tempt- 
ing appetency  prove  more  welcome  or  taste  more  de- 
licious than  did  the  feast  so  unexpectedly  spread  for 
us  by  our  kind  host.  "  May  his  shadow  never  grow 
less!" 
15 


226  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

After  luncheon  Signor  Guerreri  accompanied  us  to 
the  locanda  where  we  had  left  our  equipage.  It  was 
awaiting  us,  with  horses  fully  harnessed,  ready  to  de- 
part. We  bade  farewell  to  our  "  guide,  philosopher, 
and  friend,"  entered  our  vettura,  passed  through  the 
gate  of  Eryx,  plunged  downward  into  the  mists  that 
rolled  up  the  mountain-side,  and  the  City  of  Venus 
was  caught  up  into  the  golden  clouds  and  vanished 
from  our  sight. 


XXVI 
GIRGENTI 

The  Land  of  the  Greeks  —  Acragas —  Agrigentum  —  Mons 
Camicus  —  Ruined  Temples  —  "  Fairest  of  Mortal  Cities  " 
— La  Rupe  Atenea. 

At  last  the  day  of  our  often-postponed  departure 
came,  and  with  many  regrets  we  bade  farewell  to  Pa- 
lermo, the  city  in  which  we  had  dwelt  for  all  too  short 
a  time  so  pleasantly.  At  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon 
of  as  fair  a  day  as  ever  shone  upon  II  Conco  d'  Oro, 
Ave  took  train  for  Girgenti,  and  entered  upon  a  new 
phase  of  our  Sicilian  expedition.  Until  now  we  had 
had  to  do  with  the  Carthaginians,  the  Saracens,  the 
Normans  (we  do  not  mention  the  Romans,  because 
that  race  has  left  but  few  reminders  of  its  occupation 
of  the  land,  being  destructive  rather  than  constructive 
in  its  Sicilian  policy).  Hereafter  we  were  to  behold 
the  wonderful  relics  of  Greek  civilization,  relics  that 
have  outlasted  twenty -five  centuries,  defying  all  at- 
tempts of  the  Romans,  the  early  Christians,  the  Sara- 
cens, the  Normans,  and  of  the  modern  Sicilians  them- 
selves, to  destroy  these  reminders  of  the  grandest  of 
all  epochs  in  the  marvellous  history  of  Sicily. 

The  railway  from  Palermo  to  Girgenti  runs  east- 
wardly  along  the  seashore,  passing  Bagheria  and  Ter- 
mini.    Six  miles  beyond  the  latter  town  the  train, 


228  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

turning  inland,  enters  the  valley  of  II  Fiume  Torto, 
and,  ascending  to  the  interior  table -lands,  passes 
Cerda  and  other  quaint  towns  perched  high  on  the 
mountain  steeps.  At  forty-four  miles  from  Palermo 
we  arrived  at  Roccapalumba,  where  we  changed  car- 
riages for  Girgenti.  The  town  of  Alia,  from  a  rugged 
peak,  two  thousand  four  hundred  feet  in  height,  looks 
down  upon  Roccapalumba  and  the  desolate  valley  of 
the  Torto ;  and  we  could  trace  the  highway,  four  miles 
in  length,  where  it  crept  in  serpentine  coils  upward 
from  the  station  to  the  city  gate. 

From  Roccapalumba  onward  the  scenery  is  barren 
and  wild,  the  hills  bare  and  treeless,  great  rocks  and 
bowlders  of  monstrous  shapes  cast  fantastic  shadows 
on  the  mountain-side.  Here  and  there,  all  along  the 
road,  uplifted  on  crags  and  pinnacles,  are  the  ruins  of 
Norman  and  Saracen  castles,  picturesque  reminders  of 
bloody  wars  between  Christians  and  infidels. 

At  an  elevation  of  more  than  two  thousand  feet 
above  sea-level  we  cross  the  water-shed  between  the 
Tyrrhenian  and  African  seas,  and,  at  forty-eight  miles 
from  Palermo,  reach  Lercara,  in  the  neighborhood  of 
which  are  the  northernmost  of  the  celebrated  sulphur 
mines  of  Sicily.  The  aspect  of  all  this  country  is 
strange  and  unnatural,  the  soil  unfruitful,  and  the  veg- 
etation stunted  and  discolored  by  the  fumes  set  free  in 
the  process  of  reducing  the  sulphur  ore  to  commercial 
form. 

Traversing  the  ancient  border-land,  to  the  west  of 
which  was  once  Carthaginian  territory,  to  the  east  of 
which  were  the  ancient  marches  of  the  Greeks,  the 
train  rapidly  descends  to  the  south  shore,  and  at 
eighty -four  miles  from  Palermo  reaches  the  town  of 


GIRGENTI  229 

Girgenti.  Night  had  fallen,  and  as  we  were  driven 
away  from  the  station  we  beheld  the  lights  of  the 
town  on  Mons  Camicus  twinkling  high  above  us,  like 
a  cluster  of  stars  shining  through  a  calm  night.  About 
three-quarters  of  a  mile  beyond  the  town  we  came  to 
the  Hotel  des  Temples,  where  we  were  made  welcome 
and  comfortably  bestowed  for  the  night. 

Bright  and  early  the  next  morning  Signor  Frances- 
co Ciotta,  Consular  Agent  of  the  United  States  at 
Girgenti,  waited  upon  us  and  politely  offered  to  act  as 
our  cicerone  during  our  explorations  of  the  precincts 
and  environments  of  his  native  city.  We  gratefully 
accepted  his  proposition,  and  we  had  good  reason  to 
congratulate  ourselves  that  Signor  Ciotta  found  it  in 
his  heart  to  befriend  the  strangers  within  his  gates. 

At  a  distance  of  a  little  more  than  one  mile  from 
the  African  Sea,  Mons  Camicus  and  La  Rupe  Atenea 
stand  boldly  up  one  thousand  feet,  overlooking  a 
table-land  which  extends  from  the  base  of  the  south- 
ern front  of  the  two  rocky  heights  half-way  to  the 
water.  This  table-land  terminates  at  the  verge  of  a 
row  of  cliffs  that  drop  two  hundred  feet  to  a  plain 
which  gently  declines  to  the  beach.  Mons  Camicus 
was  the  acropolis  of  ancient  Acragas,  and  La  Rupe  Ate- 
nea a  sacred  precinct,  containing,  among  other  edi- 
fices, a  wonderful  Temple  of  Minerva  ;  hence  its  name, 
the  "  Athenaeum."  All  the  ground  lying  between  the 
base  of  Mons  Camicus  and  the  Athenaeum  was  at 
one  time  covered  by  the  houses  of  the  ancient  Greek 
city.  To-day  Girgenti,  shrunken  to  its  original  pro- 
portions, finds  space  for  all  its  dwellings  on  the  crest  of 
Mons  Camicus,  while  the  heights  of  La  Rupe  Atenea 
are  strewn  with  the  ruins  of  fortifications  and  other 


230  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

buildings,  which  are  not,  however,  of  great  antiquity. 
Along  the  seaward  limit  of  the  table  -  land,  on  the 
verge  of  the  cliffs,  midway  between  the  beach  and  La 
Rupe  Atenea,  the  people  of  Acragas  built  the  great 
sea-wall  of  their  city,  and  within  its  battlements  erect- 
ed a  row  of  temples,  six  in  all,  the  ruins  of  which  are 
to-day  the  wonder  and  admiration  of  all  beholders. 
The  fertile  pianura  is  one  vast  meadow-land,  here  and 
there  planted  with  orange,  lemon,  and  olive  groves 
and  orchards  of  almond-trees,  the  latter  in  full  bloom 
on  the  day  of  which  we  are  writing. 

Did  the  ruined  temples  stand  alone  on  the  barren 
plain,  as  do  the  ruins  at  Selinus  and  at  Paestum, 
they  would  even  then  be  indescribably  beautiful,  but 
the  fact  that  they  appear  in  the  midst  of  the  scenery, 
than  which  nothing  can  be  lovelier,  adds  to  their 
charm ;  the  eye  loves  to  dwell  upon  their  fair  propor- 
tions, and  memory  preserves  their  superb  and  pictur- 
esque outlines  and  surroundings.  The  material  of  which 
the  six  temples  are  constructed  presents  a  most  delight- 
ful contrast  to  the  variegated  greenery  by  which  the 
ruins  are  partly  overgrown.  In  the  morning  sunlight 
the  yellow  sandstone  exhibits  delicate  tints  of  pearl, 
shell-pink,  and  violet,  accented  by  blue-black  shadows 
of  velvety  softness ;  the  deep  blue  sky  bends  over  the 
golden  shrines  surrounded  by  greensward  and  bright 
flowers  innumerable  ;  the  air  is  heavy  with  the  odor 
of  almond  blossoms ;  nightingales,  swinging  on  the 
boughs  of  venerable  olive-trees,  pipe  their  softest 
notes,  and  larks  rise  singing  from  the  meadows.  It  is 
impossible  to  believe  that  it  is  no  later  in  the  year 
than  the  last  week  of  February — we  breathe  the  deli- 
cious air  of  June. 


GIRGENTI  231 

The  Temple  of  Juno  Lucina  stands  at  the  south- 
eastern angle  of  the  table-land  above  the  bed  of  the 
Acragas,  now  called  II  Fiume  Biagio,  a  small  stream 
which  flows  across  the  plain  to  join  the  Hypsas,  II 
Fiume  Drago,  and  form  II  Fiume  Girgenti.  At  the 
mouth  of  the  latter  water-course  once  stood  Emporio, 
the  seaport  of  Acragas.  The  temple,  which  is  supposed 
to  have  been  erected  between  the  years  480  and  500 
B.C.,  is  elevated  on  a  lofty  platform  (stylobate),  and 
approached  by  a  grand  flight  of  steps  leading  to  the 
eastern  portico.  It  had  six  columns  in  front  and  six 
in  the  rear,  and  twenty-two  others  at  the  sides,  all  of 
which  were  fluted.  It  is  Doric  in  style,  and  belongs 
to  the  best  period  of  that  school  of  architecture.  The 
columns  in  the  front  are  in  a  fair  state  of  preservation, 
and  still  uphold  one  course  of  the  blocks  of  the  entab- 
lature. Two  perfect  columns  at  the  southeast  corner, 
united  at  their  tops  by  a  monolith,  are  all  that  re- 
mains of  the  front  of  the  temple,  save  one  other  half- 
ruined  column  standing  alone.  Of  the  structure  of 
the  south  side  there  remain  but  four  or  five  fragments 
of  columns  all  much  worn  by  the  sirocco,  "  the  re- 
morseless destroyer  of  the  temples  of  the  gods." 

Following  the  picturesque  ruin  of  the  city  walls  for 
a  few  hundred  yards  westward,  passing  many  tombs 
and  sepulchral  niches  hewn  in  the  inner  surface  of  the 
battlements,  we  came  to  the  Temple  of  Concord.  This 
edifice,  almost  precisely  similar  in  form  to  the  Temple 
of  Juno,  but  slightly  larger,  owes  its  present  state  of 
preservation  to  the  fact  that  in  the  third  century  it 
was  converted  into  a  Christian  church  and  rededicated 
to  "  S.  Gregorio  delle  Rapi " — "  St.  Gregory  of  the 
Turnips."     "The  Temple  of  Concord   has  withstood 


232  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

many  centuries ;  its  light  style  of  architecture  closely 
approximates  to  the  present  standard  of  the  beautiful 
and  tasteful,  so  that,  compared  with  Paestum,  it  is,  as 
it  were,  the  shape  of  a  god  to  that  of  a  giant."* 

Although  much  smaller  than  the  Temple  of  Nep- 
tune at  Paestum,  the  Temple  of  Concord  is  in  all  re- 
spects more  beautiful  and  interesting  to  study.  When 
it  was  transformed  into  a  Christian  church  the  spaces 
between  the  columns  were  walled  up  and  the  cella 
roofed  with  wooden  beams  and  a  superstructure. 
These  incongruous  additions  have  been  removed,  and 
the  original  plan  of  the  temple  may  be  studied  more 
in  detail  than  is  possible  in  other  Doric  structures  in 
Sicily  or  elsewhere. 

West,  again,  of  the  Temple  of  Concord,  three  hun- 
dred yards  or  more  on  the  line  of  the  ancient  ram- 
parts, lies  a  vast  confusion  of  enormous  blocks,  in  the 
midst  of  which  stands  a  solitary  column  of  sandstone 
marking  the  site,  so  it  is  supposed,  of  a  Temple  of 
Hercules,  a  much  larger  structure  than  the  two  tem- 
ples above  mentioned.  For  this  sanctuary  Zeuxis 
painted  his  famous  portrait  of  Alcmene,  mother  of 
Hercules,  and  from  it  Cicero  tells  us  Verres  attempted 
by  night  to  steal  the  statue  of  Hercules  in  order  that 
it  might  adorn  his  palace. 

Close  by  the  Temple  of  Hercules,  and  below  it,  are 
the  ruins  of  La  Porta  Aurea  ("  The  Golden  Gate  "  of 
Acragas),  by  which  the  Roman  legions  under  Laevinus 
were  admitted  when,  in  210  B.C.,  the  Numidian  mer- 
cenaries under  Mutines  betrayed  the  Carthaginian 
garrison  to  the  besiegers.     From  that  day  the  name 

*  Goethe.     Italienische  Reise. 


GIRGENTI  233 

of  Acragas  disappeared  from  the  pages  of  history,  or 
was  disguised  under  its  Roman  form,  Agrigentum. 

Returning  within  the  city  limits,  we  stood  upon  the 
table-land  immediately  opposite  the  Temple  of  Her- 
cules, where  is  a  vast  ruin,  the  parts  of  which  lie  scat- 
tered over  the  plain  like  "  the  bones  of  a  gigantic 
skeleton."  These  are  the  remains  of  the  great  Tem- 
ple of  the  Olympian  Jupiter,  the  only  temple  within 
the  ancient  limits  of  Acragas  now  surely  known  by 
its  ancient  name.  Nothing  remains  of  the  edifice  but 
fallen  fragments  of  stone,  but  we  may  gain  some  idea 
of  its  vast  size,  of  the  enormous  proportions  of  its  parts, 
from  the  fact  that  the  flutings  of  its  ruined  columns 
are  so  broad  that  a  large  man,  standing  with  his  back 
against  the  stone,  barely  fills  the  space.  Each  column 
has  twenty-two  flutings  and  is  14%  feet  in  diameter 
— that  is  to  say,  44%  feet  in  circumference  and  53 
feet  in  length.  The  temple  itself  measured  340  feet 
by  160  feet,  and  Diodorus  states  that  it  was  120  feet 
in  height.  It  was,  therefore,  the  second  largest  tem- 
ple ever  erected  or  dedicated  by  the  Greeks  to  any 
god,  being  surpassed  by  the  Temple  of  Diana  at  Ephe- 
sus  only,  and  greatly  exceeding  in  size  the  Temple  of 
Apollo  at  Selinus,  the  latter  the  third  of  the  great 
temples  of  the  world.  It  is  true,  then,  that  two,  at 
least,  of  the  temples  of  Sicily  were  of  grander  dimen- 
sions than  any  of  the  temples  of  ancient  Greece. 
This  fact  alone,  if  others  were  wanting,  bears  witness 
to  the  wealth  of  the  Greek  cities  of  Sicily,  and  es- 
pecially to  the  magnificence  of  Selinus  and  Acragas. 
In  the  cella  lies  a  gigantic  statue,  more  than  twenty 
feet  in  height,  one  of  three  caryatides  (telamones) 
which  supported  a  portion  of  the  entablature.     Gre- 


234  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

gorovius  describes  this  giant  in  a  sentence  of  poetic 
power:  "And  here,  stretched  out,  this  weird  giant- 
form  appears  like  a  god — Hercules  himself,  who  has 
lain  him  down,  in  the  midst  of  the  ruin  of  this  temple, 
for  a  sleep  of  centuries,  not  to  be  awakened  by  earth- 
quakes and  the  strife  of  elements,  nor  by  any  syllable 
of  the  history  of  the  little  human  race." 

This  giant  figure  suggested  to  the  men  of  Girgenti 
their  municipal  motto  : 

"  Signet  Agrigentum  mirabile  aula  Gtgantum." 

Still  farther  to  the  westward  of  the  Temple  of  Ju- 
piter we  found  the  most  picturesque  ruin  of  all — four 
columns  of  the  Temple  of  Castor  and  Pollux,  sur- 
rounded by  old  olive  and  almond  trees  in  the  midst 
of  a  tangled  growth  of  vines,  crocuses,  lilies,  asphodel, 
and  scarlet  and  purple  poppies.  This  edifice  origi- 
nally had  six  columns  in  each  portico,  and  thirteen  at 
the  sides,  all  of  which  were  thrown  down  and  lay  in 
ruin  for  many  centuries.  Not  long  ago  four  of  the 
columns — two  of  the  west  portico  and  the  two  adjoin- 
ing them  on  the  north  side — were  carefully  restored 
and  placed  in  position,  and  now  uphold  an  angle  of 
the  cornice  and  entablature.  Truly  the  picture  com- 
posed of  this  fragment  of  the  old  temple  justifies  its 
re-erection.  The  four  columns  form  so  charming  a 
feature  in  a  lovely  scene  that  to  have  replaced  them 
on  their  old  foundations  bespeaks  the  good  taste  and 
artistic  judgment  of  the  antiquarian  who  re-established 
them.  Would  that  all  restorers  of  Sicilian  antiquities 
had  been  endowed  with  as  nice  a  sense  of  the  fitness 
of  things  !     There  is  evidence  that  the  four  restored 


GIRGENTI  235 

columns,  like  all  other  parts  of  the  temple  in  question, 
were  originally  coated  with  stucco ;  and  on  the  cor- 
nice there  are  traces  of  bright  pigments,  red,  blue,  and 
black,  additional  proof  that  the  Greeks  painted  the 
exteriors  of  certain  temples  in  gaudy  colors. 

Below  the  Temple  of  Castor  and  Pollux,  in  a  ravine 
drained  by  a  rivulet  that  falls  into  the  ancient  Hypsas, 
there  are  the  remains  of  a  great  "  piscina,"  or  fish- 
pond ;  and,  on  the  far  side  of  the  Hypsas,  a  single  col- 
umn in  the  midst  of  an  almond  grove  marks  where  the 
Temple  of  Vulcan  stood  in  a  garden  the  beauties  of 
which  are  celebrated  by  Diodorus. 

From  the  temples  we  followed  a  road  leading  to 
La  Rupe  Atenea  and  ascended  the  heights  on  which 
formerly  stood  the  Temple  of  Athene,  which  gave  its 
name  to  the  rock.  Near  the  eastern  end  of  the  Athe- 
naeum are  the  remains  of  another  temple,  supposed  to 
have  been  sacred  to  Demeter  and  her  daughter  Per- 
sephone. This  old  edifice  was  converted  by  the  Nor- 
mans into  a  Christian  church;  but  almost  nothing 
remains  of  their  structure  or  embellishment,  and  there 
is  little  of  interest  to  repay  one  for  the  climb  except 
the  view  to  be  had  from  the  edge  of  the  cliffs ;  that  is, 
indeed,  well  worth  a  longer  and  more  fatiguing  ex- 
pedition. 

As  one  stands  looking  towards  the  sea,  the  city  of  Gir- 
genti  on  Mons  Camicus  rises  to  view  on  the  right  hand; 
beyond  it  a  range  of  hills  sinks  gradually  to  the  African 
Sea.  In  front  of  La  Rupe  Atenea,  and  far  below,  ex- 
tends the  table-land  once  occupied  by  the  houses  of  old 
Acragas,  now  planted  with  almond  and  olive  trees,  in 
the  midst  of  which  stand  the  ruins  of  the  grand  old 
temples.     Beyond  the  lower  plain  the  waves  of  the 


236  PICTURESQUE  SICILY 

sea  fall  upon  a  beach  of  yellow  sand.  Quiet  and 
peaceful  is  the  scene,  and  one  cannot  readily  believe 
that  in  the  years  gone  by  all  these  fair  meadows  had 
been  the  camping-ground  of  vast  armies  besieging  a 
populous  city.  Acragas,  the  ancient,  is  desolate ; 
naught  remains  of  all  its  edifices  but  the  ruined  fanes 
of  the  dead  gods  and  the  broken  range  of  city  walls 
and  battlements. 

"  We  travelled  in  the  prints  of  olden  wars, 
Yet  all  the  land  was  green." 

Curious  it  was  to  stand  in  the  silence  of  the  golden 
afternoon  and  think  what  ages  had  elapsed  since,  on  the 
altar  of  the  largest  of  the  temples,  offerings  had  been 
made  by  Greek  priests  to  Zeus.  On  that  same  altar 
human  sacrifices  had  been  burned  to  placate  the  wrath 
of  Moloch.  Perhaps  on  the  very  spot  where  we  were 
standing  Phalaris  set  up  his  brazen  image  of  a  bull, 
the  burning,  fiery  furnace  into  which  he  cast  his  vic- 
tims whose  roarings  the  remorseless  tyrant  likened  to 
"  the  bellowings  of  the  devouring  beast." 


XXVII 
THE   HEART   OF   SICILY 

Girgenti  to  Caltanisetta — Sulphur  District — Veritable  Infernal 
Regions— Kal-at-al-Nisa  ("  Fortress  of  the  Women  ")— A 
Strange  Ride — An  Ancient  Albergo— "  Un  Ballo  in  Ma- 
schera  " — "  Sermons  and  '  Gazzoza.' " 

Late  in  the  afternoon  we  took  a  train  bound  from 
Girgenti  to  Caltanisetta.     In  the  compartment  of  the 

railway  carriage  we  found  Signor  C ,  of  Licata,  a 

most  polite  and  well-informed  gentleman,  to  whom 
we  became  indebted  for  many  courtesies,  as  will  ap- 
pear in  the  sequel. 

The  railway  ascends  from  Girgenti,  winding  up  to 
the  heights  of  Verluccia,  where  we  saw  orchards  of 
almond -trees  in  bloom,  and  then  enters  a  desolate 
land  of  sulphur  mines,  a  dreary  country,  which  pre- 
sents the  appearance  of  having  been  but  recently  the 
scene  of  violent  convulsions  of  nature — earthquakes, 
volcanic  eruptions.  At  Aragona-Caldare  the  branch 
road  to  Caltanisetta  leaves  the  main  line  and  passes 
through  a  country  the  sadness  and  weirdness  of  which 
may  be  guessed  from  the  names  and  history  of  some 
of  the  stations  along  the  route :  Comitini  ("  The  Sul- 
phurous"); Erbessus,  where,  in  262  B.C.,  Hanno,  the 
Carthaginian,  slaughtered  the  Roman  garrison  which 
vainly  tried  to  protect  the  military  stores  deposited 


238  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

there  for  use  in  the  siege  of  Agrigentum  ;  Rocalmoto, 
called  by  the  Arabs  Rah -al- Mot  ("  The  Village  of 
Death").  About  nine  at  night  we  arrived  at  our 
journey's  end,  Caltanisetta,  the  seat  of  a  bishopric,  a 
town  of  Saracenic  origin,  containing  at  the  present 
time  not  fewer  than  thirty  thousand  inhabitants.  In 
our  journey  we  had  ascended  from  the  sea-level  to  the 
high  table -lands  of  central  Sicily;  the  thermometer 
had  fallen  many  degrees,  there  was  "  a  nipping  and  an 
eager  air,"  and  snow  was  falling. 

At  the  dimly  lighted  station,  after  we  had  given 
up  our  tickets  to  the  official  at  the  exit,  we  were  left 
to  our  own  devices,  and  had  it  not  been  for  Signor 

C we  should  have  been  utterly  at  a  loss  what  to  do 

with  ourselves,  where  to  turn,  what  albergo  to  choose 
— if  there  were  a  choice  —  and  how  to  find  it  when 
chosen.  But  our  companion  was  a  man  of  many 
resources,  a  brisk  and  bustling  person,  of  whom  his 
compatriots  are  justified  in  declaring  "  Egli  non  si 
lascia  mettere  mosche  sul  naso."  *  The  Sicilians 
have  another  proverb :  "  He  that  has  no  head  must 
have  legs";  and,  in  Shakespearian  phrase,  we  should 
have  had  occasion  and  opportunity  on  that  inclement 
evening  for  "  tasting  "  ours,  in  a  dreary  ramble  about 
the  town  in  search  of  lodgings,  had  it  not  been  for  a 
brilliant  idea  which  inspired  our  guide.  Begging  us 
to  exercise  patience  and  keep  ourselves  dry  in  the 

waiting  -  room,   Signor   C disappeared    into    the 

night,  was  gone  a  matter  of  ten  minutes,  and  returned 
triumphantly  announcing  that  "  un  veicolo  "  was  upon 
the  point  of  arriving. 

*  "He  does  not  suffer  flies  to  light  upon  his  nose."  —  Sicilian 
proverb. 


THE   HEART   OF   SICILY  239 

The  vehicle  which  followed  Signor  C from  the 

place  in  which  he  had  discovered  it  to  the  station 
proved  to  be  "  la  vagone  di  posta  " — a  mail-wagon.  By 
the  light  of  the  solitary  lamp  which  twinkled  feebly 
where  the  wagon  drew  up  at  the  platform,  the  veicolo 
looked  like  a  prison-van,  and  our  gloomy  surroundings 
invoked  sufficiently  disagreeable  fancies  that  were  to 
be  woven  of  the  suggestion.  We  preferred,  however, 
to  regard  the  conveyance  in  a  less  lugubrious  light, 
and,  as  its  appearance  lent  itself  to  the  illusion,  we 
transformed  it,  in  our  imagination,  into  a  circus-van, 
intended  for  the  safe  conveyance  of  "  trick  animals  " 
attached  to  "  a  show."  A  dancing  bear  belike  !  The 
latter  pleasing  fancy  was  strangely  verified  when  a 
round  and  burly  form  emerged  head  first  from  the 
forward  end  of  the  van,  and,  placing  its  two  fore-paws 
upon  the  back  of  the  horse,  turned  itself  about  and 
descended  slowly  and  clumsily  to  solid  earth,  where  it 
stood  in  silence  erect  upon  its  hind-legs,  an  uncouth, 
shaggy,  hairy  monster.  To  whatever  genus  of  four- 
footed  things  it  belonged,  it  was  a  mannerly  and  gen- 
tle beast  and  made  a  show  of  helping  la  signora 
to  her  place  on  the  driver's  seat,  to  which  her  com- 
panion   climbed   without   assistance.      Signor   C 

mounted  upon  the  rear  step  of  the  veicolo,  the  ami- 
able monster,  stepping  to  the  head  of  the  horse,  gave 
voice  to  a  loud  cry,  "  Ah-'ee I"  and  the  "  Strange  Ad- 
ventures of  a  (Mail)  Phaeton  "  began.  We  entered  the 
precincts  of  a  town  the  streets  of  which  were  so  dimly 
lighted  that  we  felt,  but  did  not  behold,  the  ruts  and 
inequalities  of  the  pavement.  We  could  hear  the  cries 
of  the  beggars  who  hobbled  beside  the  wagon,  gib- 
bering, moaning,  like  the  wailing  voices  that  accosted 


240  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

^Eneas  "  on  the  dismal  shores  of  Acheron,"  and  were 
conscious  that  we  were  followed  by  an  ever-increasing 
throng  of  "  poveri."  We  knew  that  the  streets  were 
muddy,  for  we  had  seen  the  splashed  and  spattered 
condition  of  the  veicolo  by  the  dim  lights  of  the  sta- 
tion lamp.  It  snowed  and  rained  by  turns  during 
the  ten  minutes  consumed  in  driving  to  the  albergo. 
It  was  cold,  and  gusts  of  wind  turned  inside  out  the 
umbrellas  we  attempted  to  hold  in  front  of  us.  We 
were  hungry,  albeit  not  as  hungry  as  the  troop  of 
poveri  who  chanted  their  "  miserere  "  as  they  limped 
beside  our  conveyance.  We  became  chilled,  and  shiv- 
ered although  wrapped  in  our  thickest  cloaks  and  lap- 
robes,  and  envied  our  conductor  his  garments  of  sheep- 
skin and  the  cappotto  he  wore,  as  an  extra  covering, 
to  shield  him  from  the  cold  and  wet. 

Nevertheless  we  laughed.  Not  because  we  were 
cold  and  hungry — surely  not  at  the  sad  plight  of  our 
escort  of  poveri ;  but  it  struck  us  that  our  situation 
and  surroundings  were  sufficiently  fantastical  and  ab- 
surd to  warrant  laughter.  We  congratulated  ourselves 
that  things  were  no  worse ;  especially,  that  we  had 
not  been  obliged  to  go  albergo  -  hunting  on  foot 
through  the  storm.  That  would  have  been  no  laugh- 
ing matter.  But  here  were  we  entering  a  mysterious 
town  of  which  we  knew  nothing,  except  that  it  was 
called  by  Arabs,  centuries  ago,  Kal-at-al-Nisa  ("For- 
tress of  the  Women  ") ;  conducted  by  a  creature  that 
we  could  readily  fancy  had  been  born  under  the  constel- 
lation of  Ursa  Major;  seated  in  a  mail-wagon,  as  if  we 
had  posted  ourselves  (from  the  Great  Bear  only  knows 
where!),  and  were  on  our  way,  properly  stamped  and 
post-marked,  to  the  address  at  which  we  were  to  be 


THE   HEART   OF   SICILY  24I 

finally  delivered.  If  incongruity  be  the  causa  causans 
of  laughter,  surely  our  adventure  contained  the  ele- 
ments of  much  mirth. 

Finally,  we  halted  in  a  dark  street  at  the  foot  of  a 
still  darker  and  very  narrow  lane  which  led  from  dark- 
ness visible  into  utter  blackness.  Ursa  Major  ad- 
vanced to  the  side  of  the  veicolo,  and,  in  a  great,  gruff 
voice,  like  the  voice  of  the  Great  Big  Bear  whose 
words  so  terrified  "  Little   Goldenhair,"  requested  I 

Signori  to  descend.     Signor  C explained  that  we 

were  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  albergo.  I  Signori 
descended.  Ursa  Major  seized  our  traps  and  belong- 
ings, and  waddled  off  into  the  almost  palpable  blackness 
of  the  lane.  Stumblingly  and  with  uncertain  tread, 
we  blindly  followed  our  leader,  and,  after  a  short  walk 
over  wretched  pavement,  through  pools  and  puddles, 
hearing  mysterious  noises  made  by  people  in  lightless, 
fireless  cellars,  smelling  all  kinds  of  dank  and  bilgy 
odors,  we  came  to  the  albergo,  of  which,  if  we  ever 
knew  it,  we  have  forgotten  the  name. 

"  Whate'er  our  stages  may  have  been,"  we  sigh  to 
recall  our  welcome  at  this  particular  inn.  Ursa 
Major  dropped  our  dripping  satchels  and  rugs  on  the 
sloppy  sill  of  the  front  door  and  grumbled  at  the  tip 
with  which  we  supplemented  a  double  fare.  We  pla- 
cated the  insatiable  monster,  who  condescended  to 
growl  "  Buona  sera"  as  he  waddled  off  into  the  dark- 
ness, which  instantly  devoured  him.  We  had  ar- 
rived unexpectedly  at  an  albergo  where  few  travellers 
ever  arrive  late  any  evening,  particularly  on  such  an 
evening  of  storm  and  bitter  cold,  where  forestieri 
in  general  are  rarities,  and  "  Americani  "  curiosities 
of  phenomenal  interest.     This  fact  we  gathered  later 


242  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

from  a  conversation  our  "cameriera"  held  with  our 
"  cameriere  "  in  our  hearing: 

"  What  do  they  speak,  these  Americani?"  asked  the 
buxom  daughter  of  Caltanisetta. 

"They  speak  la  lingua  francesa." 

"  They  are  not  English,  then  ?" 

"  I  believe  not." 

"  That  is  droll !  II  signore  has  yellow  hair  and 
la  signora  red  cheeks  like  the  Inglesa  who  was  here 
last  year.     It  is  far  to  this  America?" 

"  Credo.  Giacomo  did  not  reach  Argentina  for 
five  weeks." 

I  Signori  felt  that  they  indeed  were  "  rare  birds  in  a 
strange  land." 

We  did  not  fare  badly  at  the  albergo  in  Caltanisetta, 
when  our  arrival  was  made  known  to  "  mine  host  "  by 

S.ignor  C ,  who  was  a  welcome  and  frequent  visitor 

at  the  hotel.  The  landlord  and  landlady,  the  head 
waiter  and  his  two  assistants,  and  the  cook,  made 
obeisance  to  us  as  we  passed  through  the  main  hall, 
and  the  "  facchino  "  and  the  "  cameriera  "  who  showed 
us  to  our  rooms  kissed  our  hands. 

When  we  had  warmed  ourselves  as  best  we  could 
over  a  pan  of  glowing  charcoal,  being  nearly  suffocated 
during  the  operation,  and  had  seated  ourselves  at  a 
table  in  the  dining-room,  we  forgot  our  troubles  and 
curiously  made  note  of  all  we  saw,  endeavoring  to 
translate  as  much  as  possible  of  all  we  heard.  There 
was  much  in  the  place  and  all  our  surroundings  to  in- 
terest and  amuse  us.  We  seemed  to  have  dropped  sud- 
denly from  time  present  backward  through  centuries, 
to  find  ourselves,  if  not  in  the  Middle  Ages,  at  least  in 
the  days  long  before  stage-coaches,  when  travelling 


THE   HEART   OF  SICILY  243 

was  uncomfortable,  if  not  dangerous,  and  when  trav- 
ellers were  few  and  far  between. 

At  a  large  oblong  table  on  one  side  of  the  room 
there  were  seated  ten  or  twelve  officers  belonging  to 
the  regiments  quartered  in  Caltanisetta  during  the 
social  disturbances.  These  military  gentlemen  were 
in  full  uniform  and  had  their  swords  by  their  sides 
and  wore  spurs  ;  were,  in  fact,  arrayed  in  the  full  pano- 
ply of  war,  in  which  Italian  officers  invariably  appear 
on  or  off  duty.  They  were  having  a  merry  time  of  it 
over  "  bottiglie  "  of  Caltanisetta,  the  very  light,  very 
thin,  very  sour  wine  of  the  country,  and  "  fiaschetti " 
of  Marsala,  a  sweeter,  heavier,  more  inspiring  beverage 
of  Sicilians  who  can  afford  to  pay  two  or  three  lire  a 
bottle  for  the  best  of  the  wines  made  in  Sicily. 

At  another  table  was  a  party  of  "  mercanti,"  trav- 
elling salesmen,  and  sulphur-brokers,  who  cast  admiring 
glances  at  the  officers,  and  were  evidently  much  grati- 
fied when  the  military  gentlemen  recognized  them,  or 
from  time  to  time  chatted  affably  with  them  across 
the  full  width  of  the  dining-room.  After  the  padrone 
himself  had  spread  a  clean  cloth  upon  the  table  at 
which  we  were  seated,  the  head  waiter  brought  in  a 
large  platter  containing  a  mess  of  "  macaroni  con  pom- 
idoro."  This  being  disposed  of,  we  were  served  with 
a  "risotto"  and  a  "  contorno,"  the  latter  an  immense 
sausage,  with  "  fave  "  (broad  beans)  and  the  inevitable 
"  carciofi "  (artichokes),  without  which  no  Sicilian  dinner 
can  be  properly  served.  Then  there  was  a  dish  which 
we  suspected  to  be  goat's  flesh,  and  we  were  glad  that 
by  this  time  our  appetites  had  been  appeased  that  we 
could,  with  grace  and  politeness,  decline  to  partake  of 
it,  explaining  to  the  padrone  that  after  such  delicious 


244  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

macaroni  and  such  a  risotto  it  was  impossible  even  to 
taste  of  other  delicacies.  A  "  dolce  "  and  fruit  com- 
pleted our  repast. 

After  supper,  when  la  signora,  pleading  fatigue, 
had  retired  to  the  seclusion  of  her  apartment,  one  of 
the  officers  approached  our  companion  and  suggested 

that  Signor  C and  his  friend  might  find  amusement 

at  "  un  ballo  in  maschera,"  at  the  Caltanisetta  Thea- 
tre. Notwithstanding  the  inclemency  of  the  night,  of 
which  we  had  already  had  large  experience,  our  desire 
to  see  something  of  the  social  life  of  the  better  class 
of  people  of  a  typical  Sicilian  provincial  town  in- 
spired us  to  set  out  with  our  new  friends,  and,  after  a 
short  walk  through  the  cold  and  wet,  we  arrived  at 
the  scene  of  the  festivities.  We  paid  one  lira  apiece 
for  our  tickets,  and,  having  deposited  our  coats  and 
hats  in  the  cloak-room,  for  which  privilege  we  were 
charged  ten  centesimi,  we  entered  the  auditorium 
and  found  ourselves  in  the  midst  of  a  crowd  of  mas- 
queraders,  whose  costumes  were  not  especially  re- 
markable, the  larger  part  of  the  assemblage,  men  and 
women,  finding  sufficient  disguise  in  ordinary  do- 
minos  of  cheap,  highly  colored  calicoes. 

If  the  truth  must  be  told,  the  spectacle  was  not 
highly  attractive  nor  interesting.  The  music  was  not 
of  a  quality  to  please  the  ear,  and  the  people  did  not 
seem  to  be  inspired  with  the  idea  that  they  had  come 
to  the  ball  in  search  of  amusement.  The  dancers 
whirled  about  in  a  listless,  weary  sort  of  way;  there 
was  little  merriment;  people  sat  in  groups  and  seemed 
to  be  talking  of  sadder  things  than  dancing  and  mu- 
sic, and  their  present  attempt  to  relieve  the  misery  of 
their  lives  was  a  pathetic  failure.     So  we  found  this 


THE   HEART   OF   SICILY  245 

strange  and  solemn  ballo  in  maschera  to  be,  and  we 

were  not  sorry  when  Signor  C proposed  that  we 

take  our  departure  from  a  scene  that  lives  in  our  mem- 
ory as  a  sad  and  sorrowful  spectacle  of  careworn,  hope- 
less people  trying  to  make  merry  in  spite  of  troubles 
that  crush  their  hearts  and  embitter  their  existence. 

In  the  matter  of  beds  we  did  not  fare  badly  at  our 
albergo.  True  it  is  we  did  not  explore  the  mysteries 
of  our  "  letti,"  nor  venture  into  the  dark  corners  of 
our  chamber.  But  if  tourists  will  insist  upon  visiting 
out-of-the-way  places,  where  the  manners  and  customs 
of  people  who  lived  two  or  three  hundred  years  ago 
are  thought  to  be  good  enough  for  the  people  of  to- 
day, they  must  not  peep  and  pry  or  examine  too 
closely  into  arrangements  which,  no  doubt,  in  the  six- 
teenth century  would  have  entitled  the  albergo  in 
Caltanisetta  to  be  considered  a  first-class  house  of  en- 
tertainment, supplied  with  all  the  conveniences  and 
comforts  of  life. 


XXVIII 

"THE  LAND   OF  DEMETER " 

Enna  —  Castrum  Ennce — Castrogiovanni  —  Worship  of  Ceres 
— Pagan  Rites  —  Christian  Ceremonies  —  Lake  Pergusa  — 
"  Flowers  of  Persephone." 

The  magnificent  forests  from  which  the  Carthagin- 
ians, Greeks,  Romans,  Saracens,  and  Normans  obtained 
timber  for  building  ships  have  long  since  disappeared  ; 
the  coast  and  interior  table-lands  and  plains  of  Sicily 
have  been  denuded  ;  everywhere  the  felling  of  trees 
has  gone  on  until  now  less  than  five  per  cent,  of  all 
the  compass  of  the  island  contains  timber  of  any  kind, 
and  only  here  and  there,  on  the  sides  of  ^Etna,  are  any 
pines.  As  was  to  be  expected,  this  denudation  of  the 
island  has  served  to  increase  the  dryness  of  the  cli- 
mate. Nevertheless,  the  soil  of  Sicily  is  generally 
fruitful,  although  one  constantly  hears  the  statement 
that  "  fields  which  in  the  days  of  the  Greeks  returned 
one  hundred  times  the  amount  of  seed  sown  now 
yield  but  sevenfold,  and  that  only  one-ninth  of  all 
the  land  is  productive."  * 

Certainly  all  the  country  in  the  heart  of  Sicily 
through  which  we  passed  from  Roccapalumbra  to  Gir- 

*  Le  Vicomte  Combes  de  Lestrade.  La  Sicile  sous  la  Monarchit 
de  Savoie,  page  15. 


"  THE   LAND   OF   DEMETER  "  247 

genti,  from  Girgenti  to  Caltanisetta,  and  from  the  lat- 
ter city  to  Castrogiovanni,  is  a  dreary,  treeless  waste, 
and  we  found  it  almost  impossible  to  believe  the  tales 
told  of  the  fertility  of  these  table -lands  during  the 
days  of  Greek  and  Roman  dominion,  when  Sicily  was 
called  the  Land  of  Demeter,  the  "  all  -  nourishing 
mother,"  the  "  protectress  of  husbandmen,"  and  known 
as  the  "  Island  of  Persephone,"  the  goddess  of  spring- 
time and  flowers. 

Castrogiovanni  is  wonderfully  placed  on  the  crest 
of  a  rock  more  than  two  thousand  six  hundred 
feet  in  height,  and  is  so  surrounded  by  unscalable 
cliffs  and  precipices  that  it  forms  "  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  natural  fortresses  in  the  world."  Pliny 
described  it  as  inexpugnable,  and  the  Saracens  knew 
it  as  "  The  Key  of  Sicily."  Notwithstanding  the  fact 
that  it  frequently  changed  hands  during  the  Punic 
Wars,  Castrum  Ennae  was  never  captured  by  assault, 
being  delivered,  now  to  the  Romans,  now  to  the 
Carthaginians,  by  treacherous  generals  who  betrayed 
their  military  trusts.  The  Saracens  were  unable  to 
take  it  for  thirty-one  years  after  first  laying  siege  to 
it,  and  the  Normans  did  not  finally  reduce  it  until 
they  had  practically  ruled  in  all  other  parts  of  Sicily 
for  a  quarter  of  a  century. 

The  railway  from  Caltanisetta  approaches  Castrogi- 
ovanni through  a  country  that  little  resembles  the 
land  described  by  ancient  authors.  The  dense  for- 
ests, the  brooks  and  lakes  that  made  the  "  heart  of 
Sicily  "  (or,  as  some  classical  authors  called  it,  "  the 
navel  of  Sicily ")  so  beautiful  in  the  eyes  of  the 
Greeks  and  the  Romans,  have  all  disappeared ;  it  is 
no  longer  "  a  luxuriant  garden  where  the  hounds  lose 


248  PICTURESQUE   SICILY 

scent  of  the  game  amid  the  fragrance  of  the  myriad 
flowers  of  Persephone."  Great  bare  hills  rise  every- 
where like  the  billows  of  a  vast  and  troubled  sea. 

At  all  the  stations  we  saw  trains  laden  with  that 
"  Gold  of  Sicily,"  sulphur,  as  if  to  remind  one  that 
this  weird  land  is  indeed  the  very  gate  of  the  infernal 
kingdom  of  Pluto.  From  the  station  Castrogiovanni- 
Calascibetta  roads  lead  in  opposite  directions  to  the 
two  citadel  cities,  seated,  each  of  them,  on  its  own 
mountian-top,  Castrogiovanni  more  than  one  thou- 
sand feet  above  Calascibetta,  which  confronts  it  to  the 
north.  Long  before  we  reached  the  summit  of  the 
Rock  of  Enna  we  wished  that  the  chariot  of  Pluto 
had  been  sent  to  meet  us  on  the  arrival  of  the  train. 
Many  times  we  were  tempted,  owing  to  the  roughness 
and  muddiness  of  the  road,  to  trust  ourselves  in  the 
rickety,  rattling,  creaking  omnibus,  drawn  by  two 
starved  horses,  which  followed  closely  behind  us,  over- 
weighted by  our  two  small  portmanteaux  and  one 
very  small  bag  of  Royal  Mail. 

Evidently  forestieri  do  not  often  make  their  ap- 
pearance in  Castrogiovanni.  We  "  Americani  "  were 
objects  of  curiosity  to  the  inhabitants,  who  boldly 
stared,  as  they  grouped  themselves  around  us,  when- 
ever we  stopped  to  take  note  of  any  of  the  few  inter- 
esting sights  of  their  town.  Not  only  did  they  stare, 
they  commented  audibly  and  with  perfect  frankness 
on  the  appearance  of  the  "  stranieri ";  and  the  boldest 
of  them,  put  forward  as  fugelmen,  asked  our  Sicilian 
guide  many  questions  concerning  our  identity  and 
the  business  that  brought  us  to  the  town.  "  Were 
I  Signori  interested  in  sulphur  mines?"  "Had 
they  come  to  buy  cattle?"     "Did  I  Signori  wish  to 


TEMPLE   OF   CASTOR  AND   POLLUX.      GIRGENTI 


"THE   LAND   OF   DEMETER  "  249 

buy  lands  ?"  "  If  I  Signori  were  not  English  ■  mi- 
lordi,'  were  they  not  those  German  engineers  who 
had  been  employed  by  the  government  to  fortify  Cas- 
trogiovanni  ?"  "  It  would  be  a  happy  day  for  Cas- 
trogiovanni  when  that  work  was  begun,  for  many 
people  who  were  dying  of  hunger  could  find  work  to 
do  on  the  fortifications." 

After  we  had  been  thus  "  buttonholed  "  in  front 
of  the  cathedral  (founded  in  1307,  but  of  little  present 
interest),  we  moved  to  a  neighboring  church,  before 
which  we  halted  to  examine  the  few  remaining  frag- 
ments of  Sicilian -Gothic  architecture.  One  of  our 
former  interlocutors  came  running  after  us  and 
eagerly  inquired  if  the  forestieri  were  really  Ameri- 
cani.  Receiving  an  answer  in  the  affirmative,  he 
shouted  to  his  congeners,  who,  hastening  to  where  we 
were  standing,  gathered  around  us  and  listened  in- 
tently while  our  guide  made  further  answer  to  innu- 
merable questions  concerning  I  Signori,  who  were 
"  davvero  Americani."  "  I  Signori  were  from  New 
York,  not,  as  was  supposed,  from  Buenos  Ayres." 
"They  had  not  been  in  Argentina."  "  I  Signori  lived 
more  than  a  thousand  miles  from  Nuova  Orleano." 
"  New  York  was  more  than  five  thousand  miles  from 
Buenos  Ayres."  This  last  bit  of  information  was  re- 
ceived with  extreme  wonder,  not  to  say  incredulity. 
"  I  Signori  were  not  travelling  on  business;  they  had 
come  to  Castrogiovanni  on  a  pleasure  trip ;  they  were 
making  a  'giro'  in  Sicily."  "  No,  I  Signori  were  not 
'  molto  opulenti.'  II  Signore  was  a  '  scrittore,'  a  '  gi- 
ornalista,'  '  un  povero  diavolo '  who  worked  for  his 
bread."  This  last  statement  was  received  with  scorn 
and  derision,  for  in  Castrogiovanni,  as  elsewhere  in 


250  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

Sicily,  it  was  perfectly  well  known  to  be  an  indisputa- 
ble fact  that  all  Amerfcani  were  molto  ricchi — million- 
aires, in  fact. 

Although  Castrogiovanni  is  inhabited  by  more  than 
fifteen  thousand  souls,  it  is  a  lonely  and  dismal  place. 
Wonderful  are  all  the  prospects  to  be  had  from  the 
verge  of  its  cliffs,  and  often  all  the  land  about  it  lies  gold- 
en in  sunlight,  the  mountains  robed  in  marvellous  col- 
ors, but  the  aspect  of  the  town  itself  is  sad  and  dreary. 
Of  all  the  hundreds  of  squalid,  comfortless  houses 
there  are  none  fairly  describable  as  the  homes  of  hap- 
py folk.  The  people  who  inhabit  the  dark  dwellings 
are  woe-begone  creatures  who  shuffle  about  the  nar- 
row, dirty  streets  with  discontent  written  in  every  line 
of  their  careworn  faces.  Verily,  it  seems  a  cruel 
mockery  even  to  think  of  the  town  as  once  the  abode 
of  the  "  Goddess  of  Plenty."  For  twenty  centuries 
Castrogiovanni  has  been  sinking  deeper  and  deeper  in 
the  "  Slough  of  Despond,"  and  to-day  it  would  seem 
as  if  the  town  had  reached  the  depths  of  its  misery. 
The  precincts  of  the  city  are  horrible  places  even  when 
the  sun  is  shining,  and  there  are  many  dark  days  in 
Castrogiovanni ;  for,  seated  on  its  mountain-height,  it 
draws  to  it  the  silent  awe  of  mists  and  clouds  and 
hides  itself  in  fogs  that  shut  out  all  sight  of  the  sun 
and  the  green  world.  Perhaps  the  hungry  folk  of  Cas- 
trogiovanni dream  of  the  far-away  ancient  days  when 
Ceres  filled  their  storehouses  with  abundant  golden 
grain ;  they  do  keep  alive,  so  it  is  said,  the  traditions 
of  Demeter  and  Persephone,  although  it  is  more  than 
likely  they  do  not  remember  the  names  of  the  ancient 
protectresses  of  pagan  Enna. 

On  the  day  of  the  fete  of  the  "  Madonna  of  all  the 


"THE   LAND   OF  DEMETER  "  25  I 

Graces  "  her  worshippers  place  before  her  statue  large 
sheaves  of  grain  and  bunches  of  wild  flowers,  and  form 
processions  in  her  honor,  composed  of  men  in  long, 
white  tunics,  who  carry  flowers  in  their  hands,  make 
offerings  of  grain  and  other  products  of  the  soil  before 
the  altars  in  the  churches.  Certain  writers  pretend 
that  they  have  discovered  in  these  Christian  ceremo- 
nies traces  of  the  worship  of  Demeter  and  Persephone, 
although  Pitr6,  the  great  authority  concerning  all  that 
appertains  to  the  manners  and  customs  of  Sicilians,  is 
not  entirely  convinced  of  the  soundness  of  this  theory; 
nevertheless,  it  seems  most  reasonable  to  believe  that 
many  of  the  old  pagan  rites  have  been  preserved  in 
their  essential  forms  in  Christian  ceremonies  of  to- 
day. In  many  of  the  cities  of  Sicily  the  people  who 
till  the  soil  deck  the  altars  and  holy  sepulchre  with 
greenery  and  deposit  flowers  at  the  feet  of  the  cruci- 
fix, where  they  offer  prayers  that  the  ingathering  of 
the  crops  may  be  successful  and  the  harvest  abundant. 
In  many  little  towns  the  "  campieri  "  load  their  beasts 
of  burden  with  sacks  of  grain,  the  first-fruits  of  the 
harvest,  which  are  carried  to  the  church,  where  the 
priest  in  all  his  noblest  vestments  gives  his  blessing 
and  returns  thanks  for  the  harvest.  Then  the  cam- 
pieri make  their  donations  to  the  church.  During  the 
harvest  time  the  peasants  in  certain  of  the  most  pros- 
perous valleys  of  Sicily  "  preserve  a  kind  of  religious 
behavior."  No  other  songs  are  heard  in  the  fields  but 
hymns  and  chants,  which  always  end  with  the  refrain, 

"  Sia  lodatu  lu  santu  sagramentu, 
E  viva  di  lu  carminu  Maria." 

In  the  morning  when  the   peasants  arrive  at  the 


252  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

scene  of  their  daily  labor  the  overseer  cries  aloud 
"Viva  Maria!"  His  companions  reply  to  him  "Viva 
Maria!"  and  the  silence  of  the  morning  is  broken  by 
this  musical  salutation,  which  is  heard  arising  from 
fields  ripe  for  the  harvest.  The  songs  and  choruses 
with  which  the  reapers  begin  their  work  long  before 
sunrise  are  repeated  many  times  during  the  day, 
whenever  the  laborers  rest  for  a  few  moments  from 
their  toil  under  the  blazing  sun.  In  certain  parts  of 
the  island  the  Sicilians  have  replaced  Demeter-Ceres 
by  St.  Anthony  of  Padua,  the  day  of  whose  festa 
almost  coincides  with  that  day  which  in  former  times 
was  sacred  to  the  Goddess  of  Plenty.  Just  as  Deme- 
ter  is  represented  in  ancient  sculpture  as  holding  grain 
and  flowers,  so  are  statues  of  St.  Anthony  decorated 
with  the  first  fruits  of  the  harvest  and  the  flowers  of 
Enna. 

At  Caltagirone  on  the  morning  of  Easter  Day  the 
Holy  Virgin  is  carried  in  procession  through  the 
streets  of  the  town  and  a  short  distance  into  the  sur- 
rounding country,  where  the  cloak  of  the  Virgin  falls 
from  her  shoulders,  permitting  the  escape  of  numerous 
doves,  which  take  wing  and  fly  in  all  directions.  This 
wandering  of  the  Virgin  is  supposed  to  represent  her 
search  for  her  Son,  whom  she  had  lost,  and  it  may  be 
that  the  ceremony  is  a  reminder  of  the  wanderings  of 
Demeter  in  search  of  the  lost  Persephone.  The  more 
one  studies  the  mythology  of  ancient  Trinacria,  the 
more  firmly  does  he  become  convinced  that  the  early 
Christian  fathers  founded  many  ceremonies  upon  the 
pagan  rites  which  inspired  the  devotion  of  the  Greeks 
and  Romans.  We  can  gain  much  knowledge  from  the 
writings  of  classic  authors  concerning  the  ritual  of  the 


"THE  LAND   OF  DEMETER  253 

worship  of  Demeter,  and  it  is  safe  to  say  that  Chris- 
tian priests  have  added  little  to  that  ritual,  have  taken 
little  from  it,  and  to-day  religious  ceremonies  prac- 
tised by  the  farming  communities  of  Sicily  are  essen- 
tially the  same  as  they  were  twenty-five  centuries  ago, 
with  the  exception  that  Christian  saints  have  usurped 
the  honors  and  dignities  of  pagan  deities.  On  the  first 
Sunday  of  October  the  grain  which  is  intended  to  be 
sown  is  taken  to  the  church,  where  it  is  blessed  by  the 
priest.  The  sacks  containing  this  grain  must  be  tied 
with  a  thread  of  flax  gathered  during  a  year  of  great 
abundance;  if  this  is  not  done,  it  is  believed  the  follow- 
ing harvest  will  be  scant  and  bad.  The  Sicilian  who 
goes  to  the  fields  to  sow  makes  the  sign  of  the  cross, 
and  the  land  when  prepared  to  receive  the  seed  is 
blessed  by  the  priest,  who  makes  over  it  the  sign  of  the 
cross,  and  sprinkles  holy  water  upon  the  harrowed  fields. 
The  origin  of  all  these  ceremonies  is  to  be  sought  for 
in  the  rites  observed  in  the  worship  of  Demeter,  whose 
most  magnificent  temples  anciently  stood  on  the  sum- 
mit of  the  mountain  of  Enna. 

We  did  not  visit  the  shores  of  Lake  Pergusa, 
whence  Aidoneus  (Pluto)  carried  away  Persephone 
(Proserpine),  and  which  lies  about  two  miles  and  a 
half  to  the  south  of  Castrogiovanni.  Little  remains 
to  remind  the  traveller  of  the  former  beauty  of  the 
place,  and  we  were  loath  to  dispel  the  illusion  that 
it  still  is  worthy  of  the  description  the  poets  give  of 
it.  We  prefer  to  think  of  it  as  Ovid  paints  it:  "A 
spot  at  the  bottom  of  a  shady  vale  watered  by  the 
plenteous  spray  of  a  stream  that  falls  from  wooded 
heights ;  where  nature  decks  herself  in  all  her  varied 
hues,  where  the  ground  is  beauteous,  carpeted  with 


254  PICTURESQUE  SICILY 

flowers  of  many  tints."  So  we  turned  back  from  the 
very  border  of  the  sacred  precinct  which  Milton  de- 
scribes as : 

"that  fair  field 
Of  Enna,  where  Proserpine,  gathering  flowers, 
Herself  a  fairer  flower,  by  gloomy  Dis 
Was  gathered,  which  cost  Ceres  all  that  pain 
To  seek  her  through  the  world." 


XXIX 
THE   PLAIN  OF  CATANIA 

"  L'  Usurajo  " — A  Sicilian  Shylock — The  Rival  Cities — Valley 
of  the  Chrysas — Distant  Hill  Cities — "  Faithless  Sperlinga  " 
— Hercules — St.  Philip  of  Agira — ^Etna — Catania. 

NOT  even  our  passion  for  fine  landscapes  could 
overcome  our  repugnance  to  the  dirt  and  squalor  of 
Castrogiovanni,  and  we  determined  to  continue  our 
journey  to  Catania  by  a  train  which  was  advertised  to 
take  its  departure  about  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 
At  the  station  Castrogiovanni-Calascibetta  we  waited 
two  long,  dreary  hours,  and  during  all  that  time  it 
rained  in  torrents. 

A  well-to-do-looking  old  man  who  was  lounging 
about  the  waiting-room,  mistaking  us  for  subjects  of 
Emperor  William,  addressed  us  in  German,  and  we 
learned  that  he  was  a  native  of  Venice,  an  ex-Aus- 
trian soldier  who  had  served  in  Mexico  under  the 
luckless  Maximilian.  He  had  enlisted  during  "  the 
Regeneration  "  in  the  army  of  Victor  Emanuel,  and 
had  entered  Rome,  in  1870,  with  Garibaldi.  He  told 
us  that  the  Italian  government  gives  no  pension  to 
ex-Austrian  soldiers,  but  in  lieu  thereof  those  Vene- 
tians who  fought  under  Garibaldi  receive  a  lump  sum 
of  fifteen  hundred  lire. 

With  his  fifteen  hundred  lire  our  old  Venetian  had 


256  PICTURESQUE  SICILY 

bought  land  near  Castrogiovanni,  from  which  he  re- 
ceived rental.  For  nine  years  he  had  served  as  a 
keeper  in  the  madhouse  at  Palermo  and  had  managed 
to  save  money,  although  the  salary  was  not  large. 
This  we  could  well  believe,  for  he  was  a  shrewd  old 
fellow  and  appeared  to  be  well  off.  Our  Sicilian  guide 
said  to  us  in  English :  "  When  a  soldo  leaves  his  fin- 
gers it  is  after  it  has  been  polished  " — a  formula  in- 
tended to  convey  the  idea  that  coin  did  not  easily 
escape  from  the  grip  of  the  canny,  saving  old  man. 
He  was  the  only  prosperous-looking  and  hopeful  per- 
son we  had  seen  that  day,  and  our  guide  confidently 
asserted,  "He  is  a  usurer!"  That  this  was  the  case 
was  proved  when  we  asked  the  old  chap  if  he  would 
not  like  to  return  to  Venice.  "  Venice  is  better  than 
Castrogiovanni,  but  I  have  land  and  some  people  owe 
me  money,  and  I  can  get  no  cash  to  take  away  with  me." 
Undoubtedly  he  was  one  of  a  large  class  of  thrifty 
people  to  be  found  in  all  parts  of  Sicily  who  make 
trifling  advances  to  lessees  of  small  farms  to  enable 
them  to  buy  seed  and  cultivate  the  land.  The  usu- 
raji  frequently  charge  forty  or  fifty  per  cent,  for  the 
use  of  the  sums  they  lend  to  their  miserable  neigh- 
bors. The  most  common  transaction  of  this  sort  is 
the  making  of  a  loan,  say  of  sixty  lire,  on  a  note  or 
other  writing  signed  in  the  presence  of  two  friends  of 
the  lender,  the  borrower  agreeing  to  pay  half  a  lira  a 
day  until  he  has  paid  one  hundred  lire.  From  this  it 
can  be  readily  learned  that  in  Sicily  small  capitalists 
get  large  returns  on  their  investments.  If  the  bor- 
rower pays  the  daily  interest  agreed  upon,  in  two  hun- 
dred days  he  will  have  discharged  his  debt  of  sixty 
lire  and  will  also  have  paid  forty  lire  additional  to  the 


THE   PLAIN  OF   CATANIA  257 

usurer,  who  thus  receives  sixty-six  and  two-thirds  per 
cent,  for  the  use  of  his  money  for  two  months.  At 
this  rate  the  usurer  can  treble  his  original  capital  in 
two  years,  and  it  will  not  be  long  before  he  is  counted 
among  the  rich  men  of  his  town ;  while  the  miserable 
contadino,  who  "  pays  through  the  nose,"  is  barely 
able  to  keep  the  wolf  from  the  door  of  the  ruined 
cabin  he  calls  his  home.  When  the  usurer  and  the 
tax-gatherer  get  through  with  the  luckless  wight,  he 
is  so  stripped  and  squeezed  dry  that  it  would  have 
been  better  if  he  had  not  attempted  to  plant  or  raise 
a  crop.  Indeed,  in  many  instances,  it  would  be  better 
for  him  if  he  had  never  been  born ! 

Castrogiovanni  is  eighty -three  miles  distant  from 
Palermo  and  sixty- eight  miles  from  Catania.  From 
the  station  Castrogiovanni-Calascibetta  the  railway  de- 
scends to  the  east,  traversing  the  plain  of  Catania  to 
the  Strait  of  Messina.  Shortly  after  we  resumed  our 
journey  the  rain  ceased  and  sunlight  broke  through 
the  clouds  that  still  hung  over  the  mountains,  on  the 
summits  of  which  stand  the  two  confronting  rival 
towns.  We  use  the  words  "  rival  towns  "  advisedly, 
for  it  is  said  that  the  inhabitants  of  these  two  neigh- 
boring communities  cherish  resentments  inherited 
from  their  ancestors  who  lived  in  the  days  when 
rival  nations  occupied  the  two  citadels,  when,  for  in- 
stance, the  Moors  were  still  in  possession  of  Castrogi- 
ovanni and  the  Normans  were  masters  of  Calasci- 
betta.  The  two  cities  took  different  sides  during  the 
civil  wars  of  the  fourteenth  century,  and  for  ages  the 
valley  which  separates  them  has  been  the  scene  of 
many  a  vendetta,  the  origin  of  which  none  of  the  con- 
tending parties  can  clearly  elucidate. 
17 


258  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

Beyond  Leonforte,  a  town  of  ten  or  twelve  thou- 
sand souls,  the  railway  descends  into  the  valley  of  the 
Dittaino,  anciently  known  as  Chrysas,  which  flows 
from  the  hills  about  Nicosia.  The  latter  curious  town, 
situated  high  in  the  mountains,  is  inhabited  by  a  peo- 
ple who  speak  a  Lombard  dialect,  which  testifies  to 
their  descent  from  the  mercenaries  who  accompanied 
Roger  in  his  first  Sicilian  campaign.  This  mention  of 
the  Norman  count  reminds  us  that  at  Rocca  di  Sarno, 
near  Nicosia,  Serlon,  the  younger  brother  of  Roger 
and  Robert  Guiscard,  died  figthing  at  the  head  of  his 
knights.  He  it  was  who  led  the  successful  charge  into 
Palermo  when  the  capital  of  Sicily  was  stormed  and 
captured  by  the  all-conquering  Normans  in  the  year 
1072  A.D. 

From  Nicosia  a  road  leads  to  Sperlinga,  two  thou- 
sand six  hundred  feet  above  the  sea,  a  town  that,  alone 
of  all  Sicilian  towns,  sided  with  the  French  during  the 
war  of  the  Sicilian  Vespers.  For  six  hundred  years 
the  people  of  Sperlinga  have  been  taunted  with  the 
saying,  "  That  which  pleased  all  Sicily  displeased  Sper- 
linga." Beyond  the  "  faithless  town  "  the  road  climbs 
higher  into  the  mountains  to  Gangi,  the  ancient  En- 
guium,  a  Phoenician  colony,  where  was  the  celebrated 
temple  of  the  "  Matres  Magnae,"  or  "  The  Cretan  Moth- 
ers," said  to  have  been  despoiled  by  Verres.  Cicero, 
however,  tells  us  that  it  was  the  Temple  of  Cybele  that 
Verres  desecrated,  and  characterizes  this  act  as  one 
of  the  greatest  atrocities  committed  by  the  praetor. 
"  He  stole  six  breastplates  and  helmets  of  brass  of  Co- 
rinthian workmanship,  and  some  huge  ewers  wrought 
with  exquisite  skill,  and  had  his  own  name  inscribed 
upon  them.  .  .  .    He  left  nothing  in  that  most  holy 


THE   PLAIN   OF   CATANIA  259 

temple  except  the  traces  of  the  religion  he  had  tram- 
pled on  and  the  name  of  Publius  Scipio,  who  had 
adorned  the  fane." 

Beyond  Gangi  are  two  towns,  already  mentioned 
as  visible  from  Cefalu — Petralia  di  Sopra  and  Petralia 
di  Sotto,  seated  more  than  three  thousand  three 
hundred  feet  above  the  sea,  and,  beyond  them, 
Polizzi,  founded  by  the  Normans,  to  which,  on  ac- 
count of  the  lavishness  of  its  inhabitants  in  the  mat- 
ter of  entertaining  him,  Emperor  Frederick  II.  gave 
the  title  of  "  La  Generosa."  From  Polizzi,  past  Cal- 
tavuturo,  the  road  winds  through  the  valley  of  II 
Fiume  Grande  downward  to  the  Tyrrhenian  Sea. 
This  highway  over  the  mountains,  from  the  plain  of 
Catania  to  Termini,  about  sixty-five  miles  in  length, 
deserves  particular  mention,  seeing  that  it  was  the 
favorite  route  of  the  Carthaginians,  and,  after  them, 
of  the  Arabs,  when  these  "  men  of  the  East  "  invaded 
the  fertile  lands  of  eastern  Sicily. 

Down  the  valley  of  the  Dittaino  the  railway  con- 
tinues to  the  station  Assaro-Valguarnera,  which  takes 
its  name  from  two  towns,  Assaro  to  the  north,  Val- 
guarnera  to  the  south,  equally  distant  from  the  line. 
Assorus  was  an  old  Sicel  town,  near  which,  in  times 
past,  large  quantities  of  alabaster  were  quarried. 
Through  the  territories  of  Assorum  flows  the  Chrysas, 
which  Cicero  tells  us  "was  regarded  as  a  god  whom  the 
people  most  reverently  worshipped.  The  Temple  of 
Chrysas  is  in  the  fields  near  the  road  which  goes  from 
Assorum  to  Enna,  and  in  it  there  is  an  image  of  Chry- 
sas exquisitely  made  of  marble."  "  Verres  did  not 
dare  to  beg  that  statue  of  the  Assorians  on  account  of 
the  extraordinary  sanctity  of   the  temple,  so  he   in- 


260  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

trusts  the  business  to  Tlepolemus  and  Hiero,  who, 
having  prepared  an  armed  body  of  men,  come  by 
night  and  break  in  the  doors  of  the  temple,  but  the 
keepers  of  the  shrine  and  the  guardians  hear  them  in 
time,  and  a  trumpet  gives  the  signal  of  alarm  well 
known  to  all  the  neighborhood,  and  men  flock  in  from 
the  country,  and  nothing  was  taken  from  the  temple 
of  Chrysas  except  one  very  diminutive  image  of  brass." 

Continuing  onward  towards  Catania  the  train  ar- 
rives at  Agira,  a  town  of  about  seven  thousand  peo- 
ple, occupying  the  ancient  site  of  Agyrium,  one  of 
the  chief  settlements  of  the  Siculi,  and  celebrated  as 
the  place  where  divine  honors  were  first  paid  to  Her- 
cules, where  Diodorus  Siculus  was  born,  and  where 
St.  Philip  (who  drove  out  the  demons,  as  the  early 
Christians  called  the  pagan  gods  which  haunted  the 
fane  of  Hercules)  established  himself.  He  built  a 
church  to  the  Madonna  on  the  site  of  the  Temple  of 
Hercules.  In  the  crypt  of  Real  Batia,  a  church  in  the 
lower  part  of  the  town,  is  the  tomb  of  St.  Philip,  sup- 
posed to  contain  those  remaining  portions  of  his  body 
that  had  not  already  been  distributed  as  relics  to  other 
shrines,  and  near  this  church  is  a  cave  once  occupied 
as  a  cell  by  the  hermit-apostle. 

To  the  east  of  Agira  is  Catenanuova,  the  station  for 
Centuripe,  formerly  called  Centorbi,  an  ancient  hill  city 
of  the  Sicels.  The  great  rock  on  which  the  city  stands 
rises  abruptly  from  the  plain,  five  miles  to  the  north 
of  the  railway,  but  the  houses  of  Centuripe  do  not 
stand  upon  a  table  or  plateau,  as  they  seem  to  do  when 
the  traveller  beholds  the  town  from  the  window  of  the 
train,  but  are  placed  on  a  group  of  peaks  and  ridges 
formed  by  deep  ravines  and  gorges  in  the  rock.     The 


THE   PLAIN   OF   CATANIA  261 

distant  city  was  transfigured  by  sunset,  its  white 
houses,  suffused  with  the  pink  glow  of  the  clouds,  pre- 
sented a  charming  contrast  to  the  rich  copper  color  of 
the  rock,  and,  far  beyond  the  city,  towering  ten  thou- 
sand feet  to  heaven,  stood  vEtna,  the  snows  upon  its 
peak  glistening  white,  while  lower  down  they  reflected 
the  ruddy  and  golden  hues  of  the  sky.  High  above 
the  plain  on  the  slopes  of  "  the  pillar  of  heaven,  the 
nourisher  of  snow,"  we  could  see  other  golden  cities 
— Aderno,  ancient  Hadranum,  the  city  of  the  "  Fire 
God,"  and  Paternd,  the  Sicel  town  of  Hybla  Minor, 
overlooking  the  valley  of  the  Simetus  and  many  other 
villages  and  hamlets — glowing  in  all  the  tints  of  ame- 
thyst, onyx,  and  opal.  It  was  a  spectacle  of  unearthly 
splendor,  one  that  will  never  fade  from  memory.  The 
"Mountain  of  Mountains"  dominated  all  space — in 
truth,  it  seemed  to  stand  between  earth  and  heaven, 
like  Atlas  holding  the  upper  and  lower  worlds  apart. 

"  Full  half  the  height  of  heaven's  blue 
That  monstrous  shadow  overflew." 

All  day  long,  from  far  to  the  westward  of  Castro- 
giovanni,  where  we  first  caught  sight  of  it,  we  had 
beheld  the  wonderful  pyramid,  snow-capped,  uplifted 
so  grandly  above  the  earth,  and  we  realized  that,  were 
there  nothing  else  wonderful  to  see  in  all  Sicily,  the 
sight  of  ^Etna  was  nobler,  more  inspiring,  than  the 
view  of  all  the  other  mountains  the  traveller  may 
behold  in  years  of  wandering. 


XXX 

CATANIA 

"  Under  ^Etna  " — La  Via  Lincoln — "  II  Duomo  " — Tomb  of  Bel- 
lini—  Elephant  of  Heliodorus — Feast  of  Sant'  Agata — 
"  The  World  that  is  Never  at  Rest." 

The  situation  of  Catania  at  the  northern  base  of 
the  great  volcano  suggested  to  its  Greek  founders  an 
appropriate  name  for  their  city.  Kara  Airvr}<i,  con- 
tracted to  Katana,  signifies  "  Under  ;£tna,"  and  the 
modern  name,  Catania,  preserves  the  sound  and  sense 
of  the  old  appellation.  There  is  reason  to  believe  that 
fourteen  hundred  years  before  the  beginning  of  the 
Christian  era  there  was  a  Sicel  settlement  on  the  site 
afterwards  occupied  by  the  Greek  city,  which  was 
founded  in  the  year  729  B.C.  Be  that  as  it  may,  Ka- 
tana (or,  as  it  is  more  commonly  spelled  by  Greek  au- 
thors, Katane),  rapidly  increased  in  size  and  importance, 
and  for  a  time  disputed  with  Syracuse  for  the  primacy 
of  the  Siceliot  cities.  A  century  after  its  foundation 
the  games  held  at  Katane  attracted  to  its  palaestra  the 
most  celebrated  of  Greek  athletes;  Charondas  gave 
his  laws  to  the  commune  ;  Stesichorus,  born  at  Hime- 
ra,  but  a  citizen  of  Katane,  recited  his  verses  in  the 
theatre  ;  scientific  men  came  from  Syracuse  to  study 
the  phenomena  of  ALtna. ;  Andronas  charmed  the  mul- 
titude with  his  flute-playing  and  taught  the  art  of  pan- 


CATANIA  263 

tomime  and  dancing  to  music.  The  history  of  Ka- 
tane  during  the  days  of  Grecian  rule  in  Trinacria  is 
for  the  most  part  a  story  of  wars  waged  against  the 
Syracusans,  who  attempted  to  bring  the  smaller  city 
in  subjection  under  them.  Katane  was  never  held 
by  the  Carthaginians,  but,  in  time,  the  all-conquering 
Romans  governed  there.  Then,  in  the  fulness  of 
time,  came  the  Saracens,  who  were  in  turn  driven 
away  by  the  Normans,  when  Benal-Themanh,  Emir 
of  Catania,  betrayed  his  countrymen  and  gave  aid  and 
comfort  to  Count  Roger  during  his  first  Sicilian  expe- 
dition. The  age  of  the  Normans  was  a  grand  and 
splendid  epoch  in  the  history  of  Catania;  King  Roger 
built  there  a  noble  cathedral  and  brought  back  from 
Constantinople  the  relics  of  Sant'  Agata,  the  protec- 
tress of  the  city,  which  had  been  carried  away  by 
George  Maniaces.  Nevertheless,  there  is  little  to  in- 
terest the  traveller  in  the  city.  True,  there  are  to  be 
seen  in  Catania  the  ruins  of  a  Roman  amphitheatre 
and  of  a  Greek  theatre ;  slight  remains  of  baths,  of  a 
necropolis,  of  a  nymphaeum,  an  aqueduct,  wells,  a 
forum,  a  curia,  a  gymnasium,  etc. ;  but  our  explora- 
tions of  these  antiquities  satisfied  us  that  little  was  to 
be  gained  by  visiting  excavations  deep  down  under 
the  lava  that  covers  the  wreck  of  ancient  Katane. 

During  our  stay  in  the  city  we  found  excellent  ac- 
commodation at  the  Hotel  Grande  Bretagne,  situated 
on  La  Via  Lincoln,  the  principal  street  of  the  city,  called 
after  the  late  President  of  the  United  States.  This 
street,  like  La  Via  Lincoln  in  Palermo  and  other  Si- 
cilian cities,  was  named  by  the  Marquis  di  Rudini, 
now  (1897)  Prime-minister  of  King  Humbert,  a  states- 
man who  not  alone  in  the  honor  he  has  paid  to  the 


264  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

Great  Emancipator,  but  in  many  other  ways,  has  de- 
monstrated his  feelings  of  friendliness  for  the  United 
States. 

The  Cathedral  of  Sant'  Agata,  built  by  King  Roger 
in  1091  A.D.,  was  badly  wrecked  by  the  earthquake  of 
1 169,  and  in  1693  the  remains  of  the  original  building 
were  thrown  down  by  the  trembling  of  the  earth.  In 
the  uninteresting  modern  edifice  are  the  monuments 
of  certain  of  the  kings  of  Sicily,  and  other  miscellane- 
ous royalties  too  numerous  to  mention.  In  the  apse 
is  a  chapel  sacred  to  Sant'  Agata,  where  is  a  beautiful 
altar  containing  the  relics  of  that  saint.  A  silver-gilt 
statue,  covered  with  precious  stones,  contains  the  head 
of  the  holy  martyr.  The  crown  on  the  head  of  this 
image  is  said  to  be  the  gift  of  Richard  Cceur  de 
Lion,  who  passed  through  Catania  on  his  way  to 
the  Holy  Land  ;  and  on  the  finger  of  the  saint  is  a 
ring,  the  present  of  the  Queen  of  Italy,  Margarita  di 
Savoia,  who  visited  Catania  in  1882.  But  more  inter- 
esting than  the  tombs  of  dead  and  forgotten  kings  or 
the  relics  of  saints  is  the  monument  erected,  against 
the  second  pillar  to  the  right  of  the  nave  as  you  enter 
the  edifice,  in  memory  of  Vincenzo  Bellini,  the  great 
composer,  author  of  many  well-known  operas.  Be- 
neath a  simple  round  arch  is  placed  the  sarcophagus 
containing  the  ashes  of  the  gentle  musician.  Above 
this  is  a  bas-relief  of  two  angels  bearing  the  soul  of 
the  artist  to  paradise.  At  the  head  of  the  sarcophagus 
stands  the  genius  of  music,  her  lyre,  with  broken 
strings,  lying  at  her  feet.  On  the  front  of  the  sarcoph- 
agus, instead  of  the  customary  lettered  epitaph,  are 
carved  the  first  bars  of  the  charming  aria  by  the 
maestro : 


i 


CATANIA  265 

"Ah!  non  credea  mirarti, 
Si  presto  estinto  fiore." 

Bellini,  a  native  of  Catania,  died  in  Paris  in  1876; 
ten  years  later  his  remains  were  carefully  exhumed 
from  a  grave  in  Pere  Lachaise  and  transported  to  Ca- 
tania, where  they  were  re-entombed  in  the  cathedral.  A 
tablet  marks  the  house  in  which  Bellini  was  born,  and 
in  La  Piazza  Stesicoro  there  stands  a  statue  of  him  sur- 
rounded by  allegorical  figures  of  his  four  great  operas, 
''Norma,"  "II  Pirata,"  "La  Sonnambula,"  and  "I  Puri- 
tani."  A  theatre,  one  of  the  finest  in  Italy,  a  public 
square,  a  villa  enclosed  in  a  beautiful  garden,  all  bear 
his  name.  The  Catanians,  like  other  Sicilians  (notably 
the  Palermitans),  are  passionately  fond  of  music,  and 
therefore  cherish  the  memory  of  their  great  fellow- 
citizen,  as  well  as  that  of  Pacini,  whose  works  are  now 
little  known,  in  honor  of  whom,  however,  a  prominent 
promenade  of  Catania  has  been  named  and  a  monu- 
ment installed  in  one  of  the  city  squares. 

In  the  middle  of  La  Piazza  del  Duomo  is  the  "Foun- 
tain of  the  Elephant,"  a  large  marble  basin,  in  the 
centre  of  which  stands  a  pedestal  carved  with  repre- 
sentations of  the  river -gods  Simeto  and  Amenano. 
Surmounting  the  pedestal  is  an  elephant  of  lava,  and 
on  the  back  of  the  elephant  stands  an  obelisk  of  si- 
enite,  with  tusks  of  white  marble.  Certain  local  guides 
assert  that  the  elephant  is  of  prodigious  antiquity,  pre- 
tending that  it  was  carved,  by  whom  they  do  not  state, 
years  before  the  beginning  of  the  Trojan  War.  It  is 
of  much  later  origin,  and  may  be  confidently  attributed 
to  Heliodorus,  the  magician,  so  called,  who,  when  con- 
demned to  death  by  Constantine  V.,  fled  from  Byzan- 


266  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

tium  through  the  air  to  Catania  (as  Daedalus  flew 
from  Crete  to  Sicania).  Heliodorus  "  turned  Jew, 
practised  black  art,  and  became  a  manufacturer  of 
idols,"  to  the  great  scandal  of  the  Church  and  Bishop 
Leo,  of  Catania,  himself  a  worker  of  wonders,  and 
therefore  surnamed  Thaumaturgus.  Heliodorus  was 
laid  by  the  heels  by  Bishop  Leo  and  burned  for  her- 
esy, either  by  being  thrown  into  the  crater  of  y£tna 
or  in  a  furnace  especially  built  for  his  cremation. 

Of  the  Egyptian  obelisk  so  strangely  placed  on  the 
back  of  the  lava  elephant,  Freeman  surmises  "  that 
Agathocles  had  an  Egyptian  wife,  Theoxena,  who,  it 
has  been  guessed,  was  the  step-daughter  of  the  first 
Ptolemy.  Agathocles  may  have  received  an  obelisk 
as  part  of  her  dowry,  and  he  may  have  set  it  up  at 
Catania.  At  any  rate,  the  work  of  the  Egyptian  is 
there,  mounted  on  what  passes  for  the  work  of  the 
convert  to  the  creed  of  the  Hebrew." 

Although  Catania  is  not  as  interesting  nor  as  grand 
a  city  as  Palermo,  it  is,  nevertheless,  a  bright  and  busy 
place,  modern  in  all  its  aspects,  at  least  so  far  as  its 
streets  and  buildings  are  concerned.  But  it  is  just  in 
Catania  that  old  manners  and  customs  are  most  strict- 
ly preserved.  The  inhabitants,  and  not  the  most  ig- 
norant of  them,  are  devoted  to  the  worship  of  Sant' 
Agata,  as  we  discovered  on  the  day  after  our  arrival 
in  the  city,  the  first  day  of  the  festa  of  the  martyr- 
saint.  In  the  evening  the  city  was  brilliantly  illumi- 
nated, and  a  vast  torchlight  procession,  composed  of 
all  classes  of  citizens,  clerics  and  laymen,  bearing  the 
silver  statue  of  the  protectress  of  the  city,  advanced 
along  the  streets  from  church  to  church.  About  nine 
o'clock  La  Via  Lincoln  was  almost  as  bright  as  it  had 


CATANIA  267 

been  at  sunset,  thousands  upon  thousands  of  candles 
were  lighted,  every  window  was  illuminated,  from  all 
the  balconies  there  flared  countless  torches,  and  on  the 
roofs  of  the  houses  bengal-lights  of  all  colors  were 
burning  fiercely,  while  the  street,  from  curb  to  curb, 
blazed  like  a  river  of  molten  lava.  Fireworks  were 
"  let  off "  in  all  the  public  squares  and  in  front  of  the 
churches,  bells  were  ringing  incessantly,  cannon  were 
fired,  and  the  spectators  of  all  this  glory  kept  up  a 
mighty  shouting,  yelling,  and  whistling  that  defy 
description.  After  a  long  wait  the  people  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  street  made  way  for  the  procession,  which 
advanced  at  a  snail's  pace.  Leading  the  pageant 
there  came  several  hundred  citizens,  robed  in  white 
(or,  to  be  more  exact,  wearing  what  looked  like  white 
night-gowns),  all  bearing  candles  in  their  hands.  Be- 
hind these  there  was  borne  the  image  of  Sant'  Agata 
on  its  pedestal,  the  latter,  with  the  statue,  weighing 
several  tons.  This  enormous  weight  was  carried  for- 
ward no  more  than  ten  yards  at  a  time,  although 
borne  aloft  by  three  hundred  or  more  bearers,  all  sorts 
and  conditions  of  men,  who  placed  their  shoulders  be- 
neath two  enormous  beams,  fifty  or  sixty  feet  in 
length,  fastened  to  the  sides  of  the  pedestal.  Not 
more  than  thirty  feet  were  the  three  hundred  men 
able  to  carry  the  shrine  and  image  without  stopping 
to  rest,  and  when  they  were  utterly  exhausted  their 
places  were  taken  by  other  bearers,  who  marched  be- 
fore and  behind  the  statue.  For  one  whole  day  these 
white-robed  citizens,  of  whom  there  must  have  been 
many  hundreds,  had  been  engaged  in  the  great  labor 
of  carrying  the  saint  from  church  to  church,  and  for 
two  days  longer  was  the  strange  procession  to  find  its 


268  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

way  about  the  streets,  until  all  the  principal  churches 
in  the  city  had  been  visited  by  the  simulacrum  of  the 
saint. 

By  the  courtesy  of  Professor  Annibale  Ricco,  As- 
tronomer Royal  of  the  University  of  Catania,  we  were 
enabled  to  visit  one  of  the  most  interesting  sights  of 
the  city — namely,  the  Astronomical  Observatory,  and 
the  "  Terrestrial  and  Vulcanological  Laboratory  "  con- 
nected with  that  institution.  Professor  Ricco  invited 
us  to  visit  the  vaults,  in  which  are  to  be  seen  geo- 
dynamic  apparatus,  instruments  of  precision  which, 
during  every  second  of  time,  record  with  marvellous 
accuracy  the  condition  of  the  earth's  stability  or 
instability.  In  the  neighborhood  of  such  a  disturbing 
element  as  Mount  yEtna  the  earth  frequently  trembles 
and  is  much  disturbed. 

When  we  had  descended  into  the  bowels  of  the 
earth,  and  stood  in  darkness  while  Professor  Ricco 
was  preparing  to  illuminate  his  subterranean  work- 
shop, we  were  unable  to  prevent  our  imagination  from 
playing  tricks  upon  our  reason.  We  should  not 
have  been  surprised  had  our  "  guide,  philosopher,  and 
friend  "  who  had  conducted  us  "  ad  inferos,"  as  the 
Cumean  Sybil  led  faltering  ./Eneas  down  into  the 
kingdom  of  mighty  Dis,  suddenly  turned  to  us  and 
said,  "  Permit  me  to  present  you  to  my  friend  En- 
celadus,  the  owner  of  these  sub-^Etnean  premises." 
Indeed,  we  should  not  have  wondered  greatly  had  he 
proposed  to  usher  us  into  the  smithy  of  Vulcan  him- 
self. When  the  door  which  shut  out  the  upper  world 
had  been  closed,  we  were  awed  by  the  silence,  the 
utter  stillness  of  the  place,  the  listening  blackness. 

When  lamps  were  lighted  we  discovered,  in  one  of 


CATANIA  269 

a  series  of  cave-like  chambers  (vaults  that  might  have 
served  for  dungeons  of  the  Inquisition),  a  well  which, 
for  aught  we  knew,  dropped  down  to  the  realms  of 
Aidoneus.  Suspended  in  this  pit  were  pendulums, 
and  around  it,  on  circular  stone  tables  securely  found- 
ed upon  and  in  the  native  rock,  were  curious  appara- 
tus, more  delicate  in  structure  than  the  tiniest  chro- 
nometer, all  protected  from  the  dustless,  dead,  calm 
air  of  the  vaults  by  inverted  glass  globes  and  cases. 
So  dainty  were  some  of  these  instruments,  so  exactly 
and  precisely  adjusted  were  all  their  parts,  that  it  had 
been  possible  to  give  them  the  necessary  firm  and 
immobile  resting-place  only  by  penetrating  the  strata 
of  rock  downward  for  one  hundred  feet,  until  absolute 
bed-rock  had  been  reached.  These  little  dials,  record- 
ing-machines, pendulums,  gauges,  were  mounted  on 
a  foundation  as  deeply  laid  and  firmly  built  as  the 
foundations  of  the  piers  of  Brooklyn  Bridge. 

On  one  rock  -  table  are  eight  of  the  most  delicate 
seismographs  of  different  systems;  they  record  the 
faintest  tremor  of  the  earth  occasioned  by  internal 
natural  forces.  So  sensitive  are  some  of  these  instru- 
ments that  the  heat  of  the  body  of  an  observer 
standing  near  them  will  cause  the  steel  of  which  they 
are  made  to  expand  and  thus  disturb  their  nice  ad- 
justment. These  seismographs  are  connected  on  an 
electrical  circuit,  which,,  being  made  or  broken,  sets  in 
motion  other  instruments  to  record,  on  blackened  pa- 
per prepared  for  the  purpose,  the  duration,  force,  and 
direction  of  the  oscillations  of  the  earth.  Of  the 
eight  seismographs  we  shall  describe  that  one  which 
seemed  to  us  most  curious  :  around  a  framework  of 
brass,  resembling  a  table-caster  without  bottles,  was  a 


270  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

row  of  needles,  small  rods  of  steel,  balanced  so  exactly 
on  end  that  a  shock  a  thousand  times  imperceptible 
(if  we  may  use  the  term)  to  the  most  sensitive  of 
human  nerves  will  cause  the  needles  to  fall  outward 
from  the  brass  form,  to  be  caught  by  a  wire,  and  thus 
establish  an  electrical  circuit.  The  electricity  sets  in 
motion  a  delicate  machine  which  carries  a  sheet  of 
paper  ruled  in  minute  squares,  under  the  point  of  a 
suspended  needle  ;  the  latter,  by  its  swaying,  measures 
the  horizontal  dimensions  and  direction  of  the  im- 
pulse, and  a  clock-work  arrangement  records  the  dura- 
tion of  the  seismic  disturbance. 

In  one  corner  of  the  chamber  is  a  pendulum  seismo- 
graph of  almost  infinite  precision  and  accuracy,  that, 
surprising  to  relate,  renders  appreciable  to  the  human 
vision  (by  means  of  microscopic  lenses  of  high  power) 
the  slightest  seismic  disturbances.  When  Professor 
Ricco  had  illuminated  the  interior  of  a  perpendicular 
tube,  into  which  we  looked  through  the  eye-piece  of  a 
microscope  of  great  power,  we  saw,  reflected  in  a  tiny 
mirror,  a  field  of  white  light,  across  which  there  fell 
what  appeared  to  be  the  semi-transparent  shadow  of 
the  filmiest  spider-web.  This  shadow  was  oscillating 
synchronously  with  the  beating  of  our  hearts,  which, 
owing  to  the  excitement  under  which  we  labored,  as 
we  gazed  at  the  marvellous  spectacle,  seemed  to 
thump  against  our  ribs.  The  shadow  moved  back 
and  forth  at  right  angles  to  its  length,  in  a  slightly 
wavering,  fluttering  line,  oscillating  through  a  space 
equal  to  from  ten  to  twenty  times  its  diameter,  in  di- 
rections which,  had  we  been  looking  at  a  map,  would 
have  given  us  northeast  and  southwest.  We  have  to 
confess  that  we  were  strangely  moved,  awe-stricken,  as 


CATANIA  27I 

we  peered  into  the  microscope,  and  beheld  on  a  little 
white  diagram  the  almost  imperceptible  tell-tale  film, 
which  was  set  in  motion  and  kept  swinging  to  and  fro 
by  the  trembling  of  the  earth  on  which  we  live,  move, 
and  have  our  being.  It  was  almost  impossible  to  real- 
ize that  we  beheld  an  earthquake,  and  we  turned  to 
Professor  Ricco  and  expressed  our  astonishment.  He 
smiled  and  said,  "  The  earth  is  never  at  rest ;  it  always 
trembles." 

He  then  explained  that  the  seismic  waves,  the  effect 
of  which  we  beheld  in  the  microscope,  were  produced 
from  northeast  to  southwest,  and  that  the  oscillations 
measured  the  five  -  thousandth  part  of  an  inch.  Our 
heart-beats  recorded  the  duration  of  an  oscillation. 

What  food  for  imagination  and  wonder  in  the  fact 
"The  earth  is  never  at  rest;  it  always  trembles!" 


XXXI 
jETNA 

Homer,  Virgil,  Dante  —  Ascent  to  Nicolosi  —  Monti  Rossi- 
Eruption  of  1886 — "I  Santarelli  " — Veil  of  Sant'  Agata. 

It  has  been  said  that  Vesuvius  compared  to  ^Etna 
is  "  a  mere  pocket  volcano,  for  which  space  might  be 
found  upon  the  flank  of  the  greater  mountain."  Seen 
from  the  mole  enclosing  the  harbor  of  Catania,  ^Etna, 
ten  thousand  eight  hundred  feet  in  height,  lifts  itself 
in  the  foreground ;  its  slopes  begin  in  the  streets  of 
the  city ;  its  dome,  limned  against  the  northern  sky, 
dominates  land  and  sea. 

Strange  it  is  that  Homer,  who  lays  the  scene  of  one 
of  the  adventures  of  Odysseus  at  its  eastern  base, 
does  not  refer  to  the  volcanic  nature  of  the  M  Moun- 
tain of  the  Cyclops."  Virgil  gives  a  graphic  descrip- 
tion of  the  volcano,  "vomiting  in  the  air  frightful 
clouds  of  smoke,  of  bitumen,  burning  cinders,  and 
balls  of  fire,  which  fly  as  high  as  to  the  stars  " ;  and 
Ovid  describes  Typhceus  (other  writers  maintain  that 
it  was  Enceladus),  "  who  lies  imprisoned  deep  down 
beneath  the  vast  island  of  Trinacria,  his  right  hand 
placed  under  Pelorus,  his  left  hand  beneath  Pachynus, 
his  legs  pressed  down  by  Lilybaeum,  while  ^Etna  bears 
down  his  head."  Thus  imprisoned  the  Titan  "  vom- 
its flame  from  his  raging  mouth,  struggling  to  throw 


A   PASSION   FLOWER 


^ETNA  273 

off  the  earth,  and  to  roll  away  cities  and  huge  moun- 
tains from  off  his  body."  When  the  monster  thus  be- 
stirs himself  "  the  earth  trembles,  the  King  of  the 
Shades  is  himself  in  dread  lest  it  may  be  opened,  the 
ground  be  parted  with  a  wide  chasm,  and  the  day  let 
in  to  affright  the  trembling  ghosts." 

It  was  Dante  who  first  thought  to  destroy  the  pop- 
ular belief  in  the  supernatural  nature  of  the  phenom- 
ena of  Mount  yEtna,  asserting  that  burning  sulphur, 
not  the  struggles  of  a  vast  immortal,  caused  the  con- 
vulsions of  the  mountain : 

"E  la  bella  Trinacria,  che  caliga 
Tra   Pachino  e  Peloro,  sopra  '1  golfo 
Che  riceve  da   Euro  maggior  briga, 
Non  per  Tifeo,  ma  per  nascente  solfo." 

The  earliest  account  of  an  eruption  of  Mount  JEt- 
na  is  given  by  Pindar,  who  describes  the  catastrophe 
of  476  B.C.,  and  we  have  the  stories  of  more  than 
eighty  eruptions  which  have  taken  place  since  Pindar's 
day,  down  to  the  year  1892,  when  the  volcano  last 
threatened  to  destroy  certain  of  the  towns  lying  on 
its  sides  and  at  its  feet.  The  Greeks  named  the  vol- 
cano AtTvr},  "The  Burning  Mountain";  the  Saracens 
called  it  Gibel-Huthmet,  Hunthamet,  or  Djebel  Nar, 
"  The  Mountain  of  Fire."  The  Normans  knew  it  by 
the  name  Monte  Gibellp,  repeating  the  word  for 
mountain  in  Latin  and  Arabic,  ultimately  softened 
and  contracted  to  Mongibello.  Catanians  and  other 
Sicilians  who  live  within  sight  of  ^Etna  ordinarily 
speak  of  it  as  "  La  Montagna." 

Early  in  the  morning  of  a  June-like  day  in  Febru- 
ary we   left  our  albergo   in   La  Via  Lincoln,  turned 


274  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

into  La  Strada  Stesicoro  Etnea,  and  there  before  us, 
in  the  north,  stood  JEtna,  closing  the  vista  formed 
by  the  row  of  buildings  on  each  side  of  the  thor- 
oughfare. From  the  end  of  the  strada  we  ascended 
through  orange  and  olive  groves,  orchards,  and  gar- 
dens, crossing  La  Regione  Piedemontana,  the  lowest 
of  the  three  zones  that  girdle  Mongibello,  a  won- 
derfully fertile  district,  not  surpassed  in  luxuriance 
even  by  II  Conco  d'  Oro  of  Palermo.  The  fecun- 
dity of  the  soil  is  due  to  the  disintegration  of  lava, 
which,  having  overflowed  the  land  many  centuries  ago, 
has  been  turned  to  dust,  and  now  enriches  the  earth, 
compensating  in  some  measure  for  the  misery  occa- 
sioned to  forgotten  generations  of  mankind.  We 
passed  many  villas,  the  country-seats  of  the  Catanian 
gentry,  charming  spots  in  which  to  spend  the  hot 
weather  in  the  midst  of  gardens,  in  a  delightful  coun- 
try overlooking  the  city,  with  grand  views  of  the  sea 
and  plain.  As  we  mount  higher  and  higher  the  pano- 
rama increased  in  grandeur  and  interest,  the  air  be- 
came more  exhilarating ;  the  breezes,  nevertheless, 
were  soft  and  balmy,  bringing  with  them  the  freshness 
of  the  sea,  the  odor  of  almond  blossoms.  From 
Torre  del  Grifo,  a  pleasant  hamlet  seated  nearly 
one  thousand  eight  hundred  feet  above  sea-level,  at 
the  lower  edge  of  "la  regione  boschiva,"  the  wood- 
ed belt,  the  middle  zone  of  ./Etna,  we  traverse  the 
burned  and  barren  surface  of  the  lava  streams  of  1537, 
and  see,  to  the  right  of  us,  the  stream  of  1408,  and  to 
the  left  the  great  river  of  1669.  A  most  desolate-look- 
ing country,  black  and  fire-worn,  stripped  of  greenery, 
except  patches  of  genesta  y£tnensis  and  of  cacti  here 
and  there,  showing  their  weird,  distorted  shapes  against 


iETNA  275 

the  masses  of  lava.  The  genesta  (broom-brush),  which 
is  indigenous  to  the  forest  belt,  is  the  first  plant  to 
grow  upon  the  lava  beds,  but  it  does  not  make  its 
appearance  until  many  centuries  after  volcanic  erup- 
tions have  taken  place,  not  until  the  lava  has  been 
slowly  disintegrated  and  mixed  with  the  dust  of  vege- 
table mould  deposited  by  the  winds.  A  district  cov- 
ered by  a  lava  flow  is  lost  to  agriculture  for  not  less 
than  three  centuries.  The  road  winds  wearily  across 
these  burned  places,  and  long  before  Nicolosi  was 
reached  we  tired  of  the  sight  of  the  dreary  waste- 
land, the  stunted  plants,  and  were  tormented,  more- 
over, by  dense  clouds  of  dust  that  rose  upon  every 
breeze,  eddying  and  circling  along  the  mountain-side. 
About  two  hours  after  our  departure  from  Catania 
we  arrived  at  the  town  of  Nicolosi,  a  small  village  with 
two  thousand  seven  hundred  inhabitants,  lying  two 
thousand  three  hundred  feet  above  the  level  of  the 
sea.  All  its  houses  are  of  one  story  and  lightly  con- 
structed, many  of  them  with  wooden  roofs,  for  the 
men  who  build  them  live  in  constant  dread  of  earth- 
quakes, fearing  to  erect  substantial  walls  that  may  be 
thrown  down  at  any  time,  to  crush  out  the  lives  of 
their  wives  and  little  ones.  Nicolosi  boasts  of  two 
hotels,  but  we  saw  no  dwelling  in  which  we  should 
care  to  pass  a  night.  There  is  nothing  to  interest  one 
in  the  place.  The  town,  owes  its  local  celebrity  to 
the  fact  that  travellers  make  it  their  point  of  depart- 
ure when  starting  on  excursions  to  the  summit  of 
^itna.  It  stands  in  the  channel  down  which  burning 
torrents  have  flowed  from  the  heights  towards  Ca- 
tania, has  often  been  destroyed  by  earthquakes,  and 
from  time  to  time  partly  buried  under  streams  of  lava. 


276  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

In  the  one  public  room  of  the  Hotel  dell'  ./Etna, 
while  awaiting  a  guide  for  whom  a  message  had  been 
sent  to  conduct  us  to  Monti  Rossi,  we  amused  our- 
selves by  looking  over  the  pages  of  the  old  registers, 
in  which  are  recorded  the  names  of  many  travellers 
who  have  made  the  ascent  to  the  summit  during  the 
past  sixty  years.  In  the  first  volume  of  the  series,  on 
one  of  the  first  pages,  we  found  a  name  that  is  always 
mentioned  with  reverence  by  Italians,  who  know  by 
heart  the  story  of  the  "  Regeneration  "  of  their  native 
land,  a  name  dear  to  liberty- loving  people  all  the 
world  over  —  W.  E.  Gladstone.  The  signature  was 
penned  in  1838,  when  the  writer,  then  in  the  full  vigor 
of  youth,  doubtless  looked  upon  the  ascent  of  ^Etna 
as  a  pleasant  jaunt  to  be  taken  merrily  by  a  stal- 
wart climber,  sound  in  body  and  possessed  of  a 
steady  head.  Of  all  the  many  accounts  we  have 
read  of  the  ascent  to  the  summit  of  the  volcano, 
Mr.  Gladstone's  is  by  far  the  most  graphic  and  inter- 
esting. 

Upon  the  arrival  of  our  guide,  a  good-natured  fel- 
low, Carmelo  by  name,  we  proceeded  along  the  main 
street  of  Nicolosi  for  two  or  three  hundred  yards,  and 
came  to  the  treeless,  houseless  mountain -side.  A 
strong  breeze  raised  dense  clouds  of  pulverized  lava, 
which  pricked  our  faces  and  almost  blinded  us  as  we 
made  our  way  across  heaps  of  ashes  and  scoriae,  in 
which  we  sank  ankle  -  deep  at  every  step.  All  the 
country  is  one  vast  ash-pit.  There  is  hardly  a  square 
yard  of  grass  growing  anywhere  within  a  half-mile  of 
the  town,  and  only  a  few  bushes  of  genesta,  and  per- 
haps a  dozen  stunted  trees  tossing  their  misshapen 
branches  in  the  air. 


.ETNA  2*]*] 

The  twin  cones  of  Monti  Rossi  are  more  than  one 
thousand  feet  in  height,  and  consist  of  fine  cinders, 
such  as  are  drawn  from  the  fire-boxes  of  locomotive 
engines.  With  little  aid  from  imagination  one  may 
readily  fancy  that  these  "  montagnuoli  "  are  the  ash- 
heaps  of  Vulcan's  smithy.  From  the  top  of  Monti 
Rossi  a  truly  stupendous  panorama  is  to  be  obtained. 
Far  above  towers  the  summit  of  ^Etna,  rising  from 
"  la  regione  deserta,"  the  highest  of  the  three  JEt- 
nean  zones,  seemingly  as  lofty  as  it  appeared  to  us  at 
Catania,  although  we  had  ascended  more  than  one- 
quarter  of  the  distance  from  base  to  summit.  Below, 
at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  lies  Catania,  between  the 
sea  and  the  vast  plain ;  beyond  the  latter,  miles  and 
miles  away,  rises  a  blue  line  of  hills,  a  spur  of  the  cen- 
tral mountains  of  Sicily  projected  southwesterly  tow- 
ards Cape  Pachynus.  From  the  base  of  ^Etna  the  east- 
ern shore  of  Sicily  extends  southward  in  a  succession  of 
curving  beaches  to  where,  almost  beyond  sight,  a  long 
neck  of  lowland  stretches  into  the  Ionian  Sea,  and  in 
the  misty  distance  we  behold  the  mirage  of  the  hills 
of  Hybla,  between  which  and  the  sea  lies  the  ancient 
city  of  Syracuse. 

To  the  east  of  Monti  Rossi  the  lava  flow  of  1669 
can  be  traced  from  far  up  the  side  of  ^tna  down  the 
slope  to  Catania,  an  elongated,  irregular  claw,  which 
grasps  the  earth  like  the  tentacle  of  an  unimaginably 
huge  polypus.  The  dead  and  lustreless  lava  is,  how- 
ever, margined  round  by  intensely  green  plantations 
that  were  not  overwhelmed  by  the  stream  of  liquid 
fire.  Beyond  the  stream  of  1669  we  can  trace  the 
flow  of  1886  from  its  source,  the  crater  of  Monte 
Gemellaro,  four  thousand  seven  hundred  feet  above 


278  PICTURESQUE   SICILY 

the  level  of  the  sea,  down  to  Gli  Altarelli  di  Nicolosi, 
a  distance  of  about  four  miles. 

Shortly  before  noon  of  May  18,  1886,  an  immense 
column  of  smoke,  followed  by  cinders  and  stones,  was 
ejected  from  the  crater  at  the  summit  of  ALtna.  On 
the  morning  of  the  19th  severe  shocks  of  earthquake 
were  felt,  and  about  four  miles  above  Nicolosi  a 
new  crater  was  formed  in  the  mountain  -  side,  from 
which  arose  condensing  vapors,  flames,  and  incandes- 
cent stones.  From  the  base  of  this  crater  there  flowed 
a  mass  of  lava  four  hundred  feet  in  width,  which  de- 
scended in  the  direction  of  Nicolosi  with  an  initial 
velocity  of  fifty  or  sixty  yards  per  hour.  The  heav- 
ens were  obscured  by  clouds  of  smoke,  the  sun  was 
turned  to  blood.  The  people  of  Catania,  and  of  all 
the  cities  on  the  south  side  of  y£tna,  were  driven  fran- 
tic with  terror,  and  in  all  the  churches  services  con- 
tinued without  interruption  night  and  day.  Thou- 
sands of  people  formed  processions,  headed  by  priests 
who  bore  the  sacred  relics  of  St.  Anthony  of  Padua 
and  San  Antonio  "  I  Santarelli,"  "  The  Little  Saints 
of  Nicolosi."  These  patron  saints  of  the  country-side 
are  the  Christian  successors  of  Emantius  and  Criton, 
or  Amphinomus  and  Anapius,  "  The  Pious  Brethren," 
of  whom  the  legend  is  told  (by  Pausanius,  Strabo, 
Claudian,  Ausonius,  and  others)  how,  during  an  erup- 
tion, they  carried  off  their  father  and  mother  on  their 
backs,  and  how  the  lava  torrents  turned  aside  at  the 
"  Pious  Field  "  to  leave  them  unhurt.  The  relics  of 
I  Santarelli  were  placed  in  "  Gli  Altarelli  di  Nicolosi," 
a  small  chapel  on  the  mountain-side,  a  few  rods  above 
the  town,  and  the  lava,  which  during  the  first  days 
of  the  eruption  travelled  at  the  rate  of  fifty  or  sixty 


^ETNA  279 

yards  an  hour,  decreased  its  rate  of  daily  advance  to 
twenty,  to  ten,  to  five,  to  two  yards  per  hour.  The 
flow  of  the  molten  mass  was  nevertheless  irresistible ; 
where  in  the  morning  had  been  green  fields  and  vine- 
yards, or  plantations  of  "  fichi  d'  India,"  at  noon  or  in 
the  evening  were  masses  of  smoking,  semi-liquid  lava, 
the  flow  of  which  no  power  at  command  of  mankind 
could  arrest. 

I  Santarelli  having  been  able  to  accomplish  nothing 
against  the  lava  which  constantly  advanced  ("avendo 
fatto  fiasco  contro  la  lava  che  incalzava  sempre  "),  the 
people  of  Nicolosi  in  their  desperation  sent  messengers 
to  Catania  to  beseech  the  archbishop  to  ascend  the 
mountain  and  "exhibit"  the  veil  of  Sant'  Agata  ("il 
solo  talismano  che  poteva  salvare  Nicolosi  da  ulteriore 
rovina  "),  the  only  talisman  that  could  save  Nicolosi 
from  utter  ruin.  The  archbishop,  consenting  to  make 
the  experiment,  travelled  up  the  mountain  in  his  state 
carriage  drawn  by  two  white  horses,  taking  with  him 
two  priests  who  bore  a  reliquary  containing  the  rem- 
nant of  the  veil  of  the  virgin  Agatha,  the  holy  Chris- 
tian martyr.  It  was  hoped  that  the  white  linen  frag- 
ment preserved  in  the  ark  of  the  saint  in  the  cathedral 
of  Catania  would  reproduce  the  miracle  of  1669. 
Reaching  Nicolosi,  the  archbishop,  attended  by  his 
priests,  and  followed  at  a  distance  by  a  crowd  of  hys- 
terical people,  advanced  to  Gli  Altarelli,  bearing  the 
sacred  veil.  On  the  24th  of  May,  six  days  after  the 
beginning  of  the  eruption,  the  lava,  advancing  at  the 
rate  of  about  four  hundred  yards  a  day,  threatened  to 
overwhelm  the  chapel ;  on  the  27th  of  May  it  almost 
touched  the  walls  of  Gli  Altarelli.  After  the  exhibi- 
tion of  the  veil,  and,  as  the  people  of  Nicolosi  believe, 


28o  PICTURESQUE  SICILY 

as  a  result  of  the  exhibition,  the  stream  of  lava  divid- 
ed, one  branch  precipitating  itself  into  a  valley  to  the 
east,  the  other,  continuing  down  the  side  of  ^Etna  to 
the  west  of  Gli  Altarelli,  advanced  in  a  direct  line  to 
Nicolosi.  Then,  although  the  images  of  I  Santarelli 
were  exposed  from  the  roofs  of  the  churches  in  Nico- 
losi, although  the  veil  of  Sant'  Agata  had  been  daily- 
borne  in  procession  in  front  of  the  advancing  lava  ; 
although  in  the  churches  prayers  and  petitions  were 
ceaselessly  offered  up,  the  people,  losing  faith  in  the 
virtue  of  the  veil  of  Sant'  Agata,  and  in  the  power  of 
St.  Anthony  and  San  Antonio,  abandoned  all  hope. 

On  the  31st  of  May  the  order  was  given  to  aban- 
don Nicolosi ;  a  cordon  of  troops  was  formed  to  pre- 
vent the  inhabitants  who  had  already  deserted  their 
houses  from  returning  to  save  what  little  property 
they  had  left  behind.  The  town  had  been  stripped 
of  everything  of  any  value,  even  of  its  window-frames 
and  the  floors  of  the  houses.  At  the  moment  of 
greatest  terror  the  frenzied  multitudes  took  heart  of 
grace,  for  on  the  morning  of  the  2d  of  June  the  great 
crater  at  the  summit  of  ^Etna  ceased  to  emit  smoke 
and  cinders,  and  there  was  to  be  seen  rising  into  the 
clear  Sicilian  sky  the  light  pennant  of  steam  which 
usually  hovers  over  the  mountain-top  when  the  vol- 
cano "  banks  "  its  fires.  The  lava  had  ceased  flowing 
from  Monte  Gemellaro.  It  had  stopped  within  three 
hundred  and  thirty  yards  of  Nicolosi ;  it  stood  in  a 
wall  thirty  feet  high  around  Gli  Altarelli.  It  is  need- 
less to  say  that  the  people  of  Nicolosi,  the  majority 
of  the  people  of  Catania,  and,  in  fact,  of  Sicily  at 
large,  believe  that  the  flow  of  lava  was  arrested  by 
the  miraculous  intervention  of  Sant*  Agata. 


.ETNA  28l 

If  the  Sicilians  are  a  superstitious  people  the  rea- 
son for  their  credulity  is  not  far  to  seek.  According  to 
a  census  taken  in  1880,  85.72  per  cent,  of  the  people 
of  the  province  of  Catania  are  "  analfabeti  "* — that 
is  to  say,  of  the  563,457  inhabitants,  482,983  are  not 
only  unable  to  read,  but  it  is  doubtful  if  any  of  them 
know  one  letter  from  another.  These  figures  speak 
for  themselves.  "  Sicily  is  not  of  to-day !"  The  man- 
ners and  customs  of  the  mass  of  the  people  are  me- 
diaeval, their  ignorance  is  that  of  the  "  dark  ages,"  the 
ages  of  superstition. 

We  did  not  ascend  higher  upon  JEtna.  than  to  the 
town  of  Nicolosi.  The  ascent  of  the  mountain  is  never 
made  in  winter-time ;  indeed,  we  were  informed  that 
it  is  impossible  to  reach  the  summit  of  the  volcano 
until  after  the  middle  of  May,  and  sometimes  not 
until  early  in  July.  The  snow  which  covers  the  upper 
heights  of  the  mountain  is  rarely  frozen  hard  enough 
to  afford  secure  footing  for  pedestrians,  and  during 
the  early  spring  months  the  upper  part  of  the  moun- 
tain is  covered  with  melting  snows,  through  which  it 
would  be  impossible  for  even  the  most  thoroughly 
trained  alpinist  to  make  his  way. 

As  the  view  from  the  summit  of  ./Etna  is  one  of 
the  most  magnificent  prospects  to  be  obtained  any- 
where in  all  the  world,  it  was  with  great  regret  we 
learned  of  the  impossibility  of  making  the  ascent 
when  "la  regione  deserta"  lies  buried  beneath  vast 
banks  and  fields  of  snow.  We  felt  that  in  some  meas- 
ure our  Sicilian  experiences  must  remain  incomplete, 
the  window  in  Aladdin's  tower  unfinished,  until,  at  a 

*  Chiesi.     Sicilia,  p.  386. 


282  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

more  convenient  season,  we  should  return  to  Nicolosi, 
thence  to  climb  to  the  summit  of  Mongibello  ("  the 
Mountain  of  Mountains")  and  behold 

"  The  charr'd,  blacken'd,  melancholy  waste, 
Crowned  by  the  awful  peak,  ^Etna's  great  mouth, 
Round  which  the  sullen  vapour  rolls."* 

*  Matthew  Arnold. 


XXXII 
SYRACUSE 

"Fields  of  the  Laestrygones " — Lago  di  Lentini — Leontinoi — 
Augusta — "  The  Town  of  Honey  " — Promontory  of  Thap- 
sus — First  Impressions  of  Syracuse. 

From  Catania  the  railway  to  Syracuse,  leaving  the 
sea-shore,  runs  inland  to  Biocca,  traversing  the  Piano 
di  Catania  ("The  Fields  of  the  Laestrygones "),  the 
anthropophagi,  who,  led  on  by  their  king,  Antiphas, 
attacked  Ulysses  and  his  companions.  The  whole 
extent  of  this  plain  of  Catania,  also  known  as  the 
Plain  of  Lentini,  which  Cicero  tells  us  was  "  the  most 
fertile  part  of  Sicily,"  is  to-day  rich  and  productive, 
yielding  abundant  harvests.  On  the  southern  border 
of  the  Piano  di  Catania  the  train  reaches  the  shore  of  II 
Lago  di  Lentini,  one  of  the  "  three  wonders  of  Sicily  " 
("le  tre  meraviglie  di  Sicilia"),  which,  according  to  a 
local  saying,  are  "  un  monte,  un  ponte,  ed  un  fonte  " 
— that  is  to  say,  Mount  ^Etna,  the  Bridge  of  Daedalus, 
and  the  Lake  of  Lentini,  which,  during  the  winter 
rains,  has  a  circumference  of  about  thirteen  miles, 
shrinking  to  half  that  size  in  summer.  It  did  not 
exist  in  ancient  times,  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  at 
no  distant  day  the  marshy,  unwholesome  slough  will 
be  drained  of  its  stagnant  waters,  which  breed  in- 
fection. 


284  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

Eighteen  miles  from  Catania  we  pass  the  town  of 
Lentini,  which  stands  on  the  site  of  Leontinoi,  said  to 
have  been  the  capital  city  of  Laestrygones,  and  in- 
habited by  Siculi  long  before  the  coming  of  the  Hel- 
lenes. Leontinoi  was  the  birthplace  of  Gorgias  the 
orator,  the  master  of  Alcibiades,  but  in  the  time  of 
the  Romans  it  had  lost  its  importance  and  was,  as 
Cicero  tells  us,  "  most  miserable  and  lifeless."  It  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  Saracens  in  847  A.D.  In  the 
Middle  Ages  it  was  often  besieged,  and  finally  was 
utterly  destroyed  by  the  earthquake  in  1693. 

From  the  shores  of  II  Lago  di  Lentini  the  railway 
approaches  the  sea-coast  and  passes  Augusta,  built  in 
1229  A.D.  by  the  Emperor  Frederick  II.,  who  peo- 
pled it  from  Centuripe,  which  "  The  Wonder  of  the 
World  "  razed  to  the  ground  to  punish  its  inhabitants 
for  their  sedition.  In  1286  William  l'Estendard,  one 
of  the  barons  of  Charles  of  Anjou,  sacked  the  town, 
butchered  its  inhabitants,  leaving  not  a  living  soul  in 
the  place,  which  for  years  remained  desolate.  During 
the  War  of  the  Vespers  Augusta  was  taken  and  re- 
taken by  the  contending  armies,  and  in  1360,  during 
the  civil  wars  of  the  fourteenth  century,  it  was  demol- 
ished by  the  people  of  Catania  and  Syracuse.  In  1 55 1 
it  was  burned  by  the  Turks,  and  was  finally  utterly 
destroyed  by  the  earthquake  of  1639,  when  more  than 
one-third  of  its  inhabitants  were  buried  beneath  the 
ruins  of  their  dwellings.  At  sea,  in  front  of  it,  in 
1676,  Duquesne,  the  admiral  of  Louis  XIV.,  defeated 
the  Dutch  fleet  commanded  by  De  Ruyter,  who  died 
of  his  wounds  in  the  Castle  of  Syracuse,  and  since 
that  time  the  town  of  Augusta  has  been  of  no  im- 
portance to  the  world  at  large.      The    railway  also 


SYRACUSE  285 

passes  the  almost  undiscoverable  ruins  of  Megara- 
Hyblaea,  famed  for  its  honey,  which  rivalled  that  of 
Hymettus  in  aromatic  flavor.  In  the  midst  of  a  wide 
plain,  between  the  mountain  and  the  sea,  near  Priolo, 
we  beheld  a  ruined  monument,  supposed  to  be  the 
trophy  erected  by  Marcellus  to  commemorate  his 
capture  of  Syracuse  in  the  year  212  B.C.  From  Priolo 
onward  the  railway  skirts  the  Bay  of  Trogilus,  where 
the  fleet  of  Marcellus  lay  during  the  siege  of  Syra- 
cuse, crosses  the  rounded  top  of  the  peninsula  of 
Magnisi  (the  ancient  promontory  of  Thapsus),  and,  at 
fifty-four  miles  from  Catania,  reaches  Syracuse,  or,  as 
the  name  is  spelled  by  Sicilian  cartographers,  Siracusa. 
As  we  stood  on  the  platform  of  a  newly  erected 
railway  station  and  beheld  the  commonplace  modern 
town,  it  was  difficult  to  realize  that  we  had  actually 
arrived  at  a  city  which,  in  ages  past,  rivalled  Athens 
and  Rome  in  size,  in  wealth,  and  in  population.  We 
were  not  impressed  by  the  antiquity  of  anything  we  saw, 
nor  did  Syracuse  in  any  way  resemble  any  of  the  other 
Sicilian  cities  we  had  visited.  It  was  not  a  hill  city, 
like  Monte  San  Giuliano,  Girgenti,  or  Castrogiovanni ; 
it  was  not  a  city  lying  at  the  base  of  a  mountain,  like 
Catania  or  Trapani,  nor  at  the  foot  of  cliffs,  like  Ce- 
falu,  nor  on  the  margin  of  a  vast  and  beautiful  plain, 
like  Palermo.  The  silver-gray  city  stands  upon  what 
is  now  a  peninsula,  once  an  island  and  formerly  called 
Ortygia  ("  Quail  Island "),  surrounded  by  the  deep- 
blue  water  of  its  two  harbors.  Syracuse  has  no  acrop- 
olis, no  long  range  of  temples,  no  dome  and  spires, 
no  towers  and  minarets.  As  seen  from  a  distance  it 
exhibits  no  architectural  relics  of  Greek,  Roman,  Sara- 
cen, or  Norman  times.     It  does  not  lie  in  the  midst 


286  PICTURESQUE   SICILY 

of  grand  and  imposing  scenery;  low,  encircling  hills 
cut  off  all  view  of  the  inland. 

Undoubtedly  the  first  impression  of  Syracuse  is  dis- 
appointing, as  is  the  first  view  of  Rome  when  the 
traveller  arrives  at  "  The  Eternal  City  "  and  gains  his 
first  idea  of  it  from  the  piazza  in  front  of  the  railway 
station.  Nevertheless,  it  is  impossible  to  behold  Syra- 
cuse unmoved ;  it  interests  one  strangely,  appeals  to 
the  imagination,  and  awakens  "  Memory  with  all  her 
busy  train." 

We  behold  Ortygia,  and  know  it  to  be  the  site  of 
the  city  founded  by  Archias  near  the  fountain  of 
Arethusa  more  than  twenty-six  centuries  ago.  We 
behold  the  harbor  where  the  great  sea-fight  took 
place,  when  Greek  met  Greek  in  the  tug -of -war  so 
marvellously  described  by  Thucydides ;  we  recall  the 
names  of  Gelon,  of  Hieron,  of  Dionysius,  of  Dion,  of 
Timoleon,  Archimedes,  Marcellus,  St.  Paul,  Maniaces, 
among  others  ;  and  we  have  read  the  words  of  Cicero  : 
"  Syracuse  is  the  greatest  of  the  Greek  cities  and  the 
most  beautiful  of  all.  It  is  so,  O  judges,  by  its  situa- 
tion, which  is  strongly  fortified,  and  which  is,  on  every 
side  by  which  you  can  approach  it,  whether  by  sea  or 
land,  most  beautiful  to  behold." 

Whoever  arrives  at  Syracuse,  after  visiting  other 
places  in  Sicily — Catania,  Palermo,  the  "hill  towns," 
and  the  cities  in  the  western  part  of  the  island — cannot 
fail  to  be  struck  by  the  fact  that  there  is  little  resem- 
blance between  the  people  of  Sicily  at  large  and  the 
people  one  sees  in  and  about  Syracuse.  It  is  not  in 
the  slightest  degree  an  exaggeration  to  say  that  the 
men,  women,  and  children  we  saw  about  the  railway 
station,  the  work-people  employed  there,  the  crowd 


SYRACUSE  287 

of  idlers  of  all  classes  who  had  gathered  to  witness 
the  arrival  of  the  train,  were  as  distinctly  Greek  in 
type,  in  cast  of  features,  as  are  the  people  of  Castro- 
giovanni  or  Caltanisetta,  for  instance — Saracen  in  type, 
in  complexion,  and  countenance.  At  Catania  and  on 
y£tna  we  had  noticed  the  predominating  Italian,  Ca- 
labrian  type  of  face,  in  Cefalu  we  had  discovered 
traces  of  Tunisian  and  Norman  blood  ;  but  the  inhabi- 
tants of  Syracuse  are  distinctly  not  Italian,  not  Sara- 
cenic; and  while  we  beheld  many  with  blue  eyes,  light 
hair,  and  ruddy  complexions,  the  majority  of  the  peo- 
ple were  of  the  Greek  cast  of  features,  not  Albanian,  as 
at  Piana  dei  Greci,  but  if  we  may  apply  the  term  to  a 
degenerate  race,  classic  Greek.  The  Sicilians  have 
been  described  as  "  a  mixed  race,"  the  descendants  of 
the  Greeks  and  Saracens  who  have  intermarried.  No 
doubt  this  generalization  is,  to  a  certain  extent,  ac- 
curate as  to  the  average  Sicilian.  At  Palermo  and  in 
the  central  and  western  parts  of  the  island  the  Sara- 
cenic characteristics  prevail  and  are  most  noticeable ; 
at  Syracuse  the  distinctly  Greek  type  is  particularly 
to  be  remarked. 

We  did  not  tarry  long  at  the  station,  but  were 
promptly  rescued  from  a  mob  of  public  porters  and 
cab  -  drivers  by  the  conductor  of  the  omnibus  of 
"  Casa  Politi,"  and  immediately  set  out  for  the  al- 
bergo  which  had  been  recommended  to  us  as  the 
most  comfortable  and  best -ordered  of  the  hotels  of 
Syracuse.  As  we  proceeded  to  the  isthmus  which 
connects  the  peninsula  of  Ortygia  with  the  mainland, 
we  asked  ourselves  many  times,  "  What  has  become 
of  ancient  Syracuse?  What  has  become  of  the  five 
cities  once  included  within  the  great  walls?"     Scarce- 


288  PICTURESQUE   SICILY 

\y  one  stone  stands  upon  another  of  all  the  temples, 
dwellings,  and  public  edifices  of  that  part  of  the  an- 
cient city  over  the  ruins  of  which  we  are  making 
our  way.  Scarcely  a  mound  or  heap  of  rubbish,  serves 
to  show  where  formerly  stood  that  one  of  the  five 
cities  known  as  Neapolis.  Even  its  ruins  have  per- 
ished, and  the  magnificent  "  new  city,"  so  often 
destroyed  by  its  enemies,  so  often  rebuilt  by  its  in- 
habitants, to  be  destroyed  and  again  rebuilt,  has  final- 
ly been  reduced  to  dust  and  the  dust  swept  into  the 
sea  or  spread  far  and  wide  upon  the  plain  by  vary- 
ing winds.  The  stone  of  which  ancient  Syracuse  was 
built  is  soft  and  readily  disintegrated ;  rain,  sunshine, 
heat  and  cold,  breeze  and  tempest,  the  sirocco,  "  the 
petulant,  soft  wind  of  the  South,"  fret  and  corrode  the 
masonry,  crumbling  it  to  fine  powder ;  and  the  splen- 
did edifices  of  Syracuse,  its  crown  of  towers,  its  su- 
perb monuments,  the  temples  of  its  gods,  all  have 
vanished.  Such  is  the  impression  that  haunts  the 
mind  as  one  approaches  the  series  of  bridges  and 
causeways  that  lead  from  the  mainland  to  Ortygia, 
the  site  of  Syracuse  to-day,  as  it  was  the  site  of  the 
town  of  Archias.  The  great  city  has  become  a  small 
town  again,  having  dwindled  to  its  original  limits  and 
"  sunk  far  below  Palermo,  Messina,  Catania,  in  mod- 
ern importance."* 

And  the  traveller  may  well  ask,  "  Where  is  Syra- 
cuse?"— once  the  greatest  of  European  cities,  whose 
recorded  history  equals  in  bulk  the  recorded  history 
of  Athens,  the  champion  of  Europe  against  Africa,  as 
Athens  was  the  champion  of  Europe  against  Asia.    If 

*  E.  A.  Freeman.     Macmillaris  Magazitie,  May,  1879. 


VENUS    LANDOLIXA.      SYRACUSE 


SYRACUSE  289 

the  Athenians  successfully  opposed  the  Persians,  so 
did  the  Syracusans  successfully  oppose  the  Carthagin- 
ians ;  when  Athens  led  the  Hellenic  hosts  at  Salamis, 
Syracuse  stood  in  the  front  van  of  the  Siceliots  at  the 
battle  of  Himera.  It  is  impossible  to  estimate  what 
would  have  been  the  condition  of  modern  Europe  had 
the  Sicilian  champions  of  civilization  and  philosophy 
been  overwhelmed  by  the  hordes  of  barbarism  and 
Oriental  mysticism. 

Syracuse  in  Grecian  times  is  said  by  various  authori- 
ties to  have  contained,  at  different  times,  from  five 
hundred  thousand  to  a  million,  or  even  a  million  and 
a  half,  of  inhabitants.  The  modern  town  has  a  popu- 
lation, according  to  the  last  census,  of  twenty -three 
thousand  six  hundred  souls.  For  a  thousand  years 
Syracuse  has  played  but  an  insignificant  part  in  his- 
tory. Its  greatness  had  passed  away  long  before  it 
was  burned  to  the  ground  by  the  Saracens,  who,  estab- 
lishing their  government  at  Palermo,  slighted  the  an- 
cient capital  of  the  island  ;  and  as,  during  the  days  of 
the  Saracens,  Syracuse  was  neglected,  so  in  the  days 
of  the  Normans  other  cities — Palermo,  Messina,  Cata- 
nia— were  preferred  before  it.  Therefore,  when  the 
traveller  begins  his  study  of  the  modern  history  of 
the  town,  he  finds  few  facts  of  historical  importance 
in  any  of  the  chronicles  that  have  been  written  during 
the  past  ten  centuries  to  engage  his  thought  or  awaken 
his  interest.  Indeed,  since  the  year  878  A.D.,  when 
Syracuse,  after  a  siege  of  nine  months,  was  taken  by 
the  Saracens,  its  inhabitants  put  to  the  sword,  and  the 
city  burned  to  the  ground,  there  has  been  little  to  re- 
cord concerning  the  once  "  famous  city  of  cities,"  ex- 
cept that  in  the  year  1085  A.D.,  Roger  the  Norman, 
19 


29O  PICTURESQUE   SICILY 

having  driven  out  the  Moslems,  rescued  the  enslaved 
Christians,  overturned  the  power  of  Islam,  and  set  up 
anew  the  cross  over  the  church  in  which  St.  Paul 
preached  more  than  a  millennium  before,  when  "the 
great  apostle  to  the  Gentiles"  tarried  for  three  days 
at  Syracuse  on  his  journey  from  Melita  to  Rhegium 
and  Puteoli. 


XXXIII 
ORT YGI A 

Fountain  of  Arethusa— Temple  of  Minerva — Temple  of  Diana 
— Castello  Maniace — Great  Harbor — Athenian  Expedition 
— Its  Destruction  by  Gylippus — Death  of  Nicias. 

Ovid  sings  of  the  metamorphosis  of  Arethusa,  but 
does  not  say  that  Alpheus  followed  Arethusa  to  Or- 
tygia.  The  Greeks  of  Syracuse  would  have  it  so,  al- 
though an  older  tradition  than  their  myth  tells  how 
the  Phoenicians,  finding  the  fountain  surrounded  with 
willows,  gave  it  the  name  of  Alphaga,  "  the  stream  of 
the  willows,"  or  Arith,  "  the  river."  When  the  fol- 
lowers of  Archias  arrived  in  the  island,  which  they 
called  Ortygia,  they  fancied  that  the  names  Alphaga 
and  Alpheus,  similar  in  sound,  were  the  same  in  mean- 
ing. In  this  way  grew  the  romantic  tale  of  the  pas- 
sion of  the  river-god  Alpheus  for  the  nymph  Arethu- 
sa, and  the  descendants  of  Archias  maintained  that  he 
had  been  commanded  by  the  oracle  of  Delphi  to  cross 
the  sea  and  found  a  colony  of  Corinthians  "  in  that 
island  where  the  River  Alpheus  mixes  his  waves  with 
the  fair  Arethusa."  This  story  was  accepted  by  the 
Siceliots.  Even  Pausanias,  who  regards  the  story  as  a 
mere  fable,  does  not  dispute  the  fact  that  the  two  riv- 
ers, sinking  into  the  earth,  crossed  beneath  the  sea,  but 
he  declares  he  is  at  a  loss  to  explain  the  phenomenon 


292  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

and  the  mystery  of  the  oracle.  In  old  Greece  and  in 
Sicily  it  was  not  unusual  for  rivers  to  disappear  into 
the  earth  and  arise  again  from  the  nether  world  ;  there- 
fore it  required  but  little  stretch  of  imagination  for 
Greeks  or  Siceliots  to  give  credence  to  the  tale  of 
Arethusa  and  Alpheus.  And  so  it  came  about  that  a 
legend  growing  out  of  the  local  worship  of  Diana  in 
Elis  was  carried  to  Sicily  to  explain  a  local  wonder 
of  Syracuse. 

Leaving  our  albergo,  which  looks  east  over  the  Io- 
nian Sea,  we  found  our  way,  wanderingly,  across  Or- 
tygia,  to  the  shore  of  the  Great  Harbor,  where  we  dis- 
covered the  historic  spring  flowing  into  a  semicircular 
basin,  surrounded  by  picturesque  masses  of  papyrus. 
In  these  later  years  the  fountain  has  been  enclosed 
with  marble  walls,  and  thus  preserved  from  defilement 
and  profanation.  The  sacred  waters,  rising  from  an 
opening  in  the  rock,  form  a  goodly  stream,  which  finds 
its  way  into  the  Great  Harbor  but  a  few  yards  dis- 
tant. In  like  manner  was  the  spring  enclosed  in  the 
time  of  Cicero.  He  tells  us  that  in  the  island  of  Or- 
tygia  "  is  a  fountain  of  sweet  water,  the  name  of  which 
is  Arethusa,  of  incredible  flow,  very  full  of  fish,  which 
would  be  entirely  overwhelmed  by  the  sea  were  not 
its  waters  protected  from  the  waves  by  a  rampart  and 
a  wall  of  stone."  yEons  ago  Arethusa  and  her  nymphs 
haunted  the  fountain  and  bathed  in  the  limpid  water, 
which  in  these  last  times  has  been  rescued  from  dese- 
cration, of  which  there  was  much  need,  seeing  that  for 
many  years  the  spring  was  used  as  the  public  wash- 
place  of  the  city. 

In  the  heart  of  Ortygia,  facing  La  Piazza  del  Duo- 
mo,  and  flanked  by  La  Piazza  Minerva,  stands  the 


ORTYGIA  293 

Cathedral  of  Syracuse,  dedicated  to  Santa  Maria  del 
Piliero — "  Saint  Mary  of  the  Pillar" — so  called  because 
the  Christian  church  occupies  the  site  of  a  Greek  tem- 
ple, the  peristyle  of  which  is  incorporated  with  the 
cathedral  walls.  The  temples  of  Syracuse  do  not 
stand  revealed  in  all  their  ruined  beauty,  like  the  tem- 
ples of  Girgenti  or  the  temple  of  Segesta — one  has  to 
search  for  them ;  nevertheless,  there  are  three  of  these 
monuments  of  ancient  times  built  in  the  days  of  the 
Commonwealth  or  of  the  Tyrants.  Two  of  them  are  to 
be  found  in  Ortygia,  and  one  without  the  city,  near  the 
banks  of  the  River  Anapo.  The  temple  (now  the  ca- 
thedral) was  built  in  the  sixth  century  B.C.  By  some 
authorities  it  is  said  to  have  been  consecrated  to  Mi- 
nerva, but  Cicero,  in  his  oration  against  Verres,  states 
that  the  sumptuous  Temple  of  Minerva,  which  was 
robbed  of  its  costly  treasures  by  the  Roman  praetor, 
stood  at  the  southeastern  extremity  of  the  island.  It 
is  possible  that  the  edifice  in  question  was  a  shrine  of 
Diana ;  the  fact  that  it  stands  near  the  spring  of  Are- 
thusa,  "  the  nymph  beloved  of  Dian,"  lends  color  to 
this  supposition,  although  Freeman  states  that  the 
temple  was  originally  consecrated  to  Minerva.  Be 
this  as  it  may,  certain  it  is  that  the  early  Christians, 
the  descendants  of  the  men  who  had  listened  to  the 
preaching  of  the  Apostle  Paul,  transformed  the  pagan 
temple  into  a  Christian  sanctuary  by  incorporating 
the  columns  and  entablature  with  the  enclosing 
walls,  which  were  erected  nearly  a  thousand  years 
later  than  the  foundation.  The  temple  was  one  hun- 
dred and  eighty  feet  in  length  and  seventy -two  in 
width.  It  had  six  fluted  Doric  columns  in  each 
portico,  and  fourteen  on  each  side,  but  all  of  them  are 


294  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

now  deeply  embedded  in  the  walls  of  the  modern  ca- 
thedral. 

On  the  north  side,  next  La  Piazza  Minerva,  the 
columns  support  a  portion  of  the  ancient  entablature, 
but  the  cornice  and  the  guttae  are  gone,  and  the  tri- 
glyphs  uphold  Saracenic  battlements.  The  latter  bear 
witness  to  the  fact  that  the  pagan  temple,  having 
been  transformed  into  a  Christian  church,  was,  in 
turn,  changed  into  a  mosque,  and  only  after  many 
years  reconsecrated  to  the  use  of  Christian  worship- 
pers. The  interior  contains  little  of  interest  to  arch- 
aeologists, few  remains  of  Greek  architecture ;  the 
walls  of  the  cella  were  pierced  with  arches,  and  by 
filling  up  the  spaces  between  the  columns  in  the  peri- 
style on  each  side  with  solid  masonry  Christian  archi- 
tects formed  the  nave  and  aisles  of  the  metropolitan 
church. 

Standing  in  the  silence  of  the  venerable  sanctuary, 
it  was  wonderful  to  think  that  in  this  very  place  men 
have  worshipped  for  more  than  twenty-four  centuries. 
It  may  be  that  here  Gelon,  the  two  Hieros,  ^Eschylus, 
Pindar,  Gylippus,  Dionysius,  Plato,  Timoleon,  Agath- 
ocles,  Archimedes,  consulted  the  oracles  of  their  gods. 
This  same  temple  was  more  than  four  hundred  years 
old  when  Marcellus  forbade  his  soldiers  to  plunder 
it ;  from  it  Verres  stole  away  innumerable  price- 
less works  of  art ;  the  Apostle  Paul  may  have  passed 
before  its  portico,  accompanied  perhaps  by  Marcian, 
whom  Peter  sent  from  Antioch  to  preach  to  the  Syr- 
acusans.  Here  Belisarius  may  have  worshipped,  and 
Constantius.  In  878  A.D.  came  the  Saracens,  who 
turned  the  Christian  church  into  a  mosque,  from  the 
roof  of  which,  for  two  hundred  years,  muezzins  called 


ORTYGIA  295 

"  the  faithful "  to  their  prayers.  Finally,  in  1087, 
came  the  Normans,  who  restored  the  sanctuary  to 
the  keeping  of  Christian  priests ;  and  since  then,  down 
to  the  present  day,  within  its  walls,  men  and  women 
have  worshipped  at  the  shrine  of  Mary  the  Madonna. 

In  II  Vico  di  San  Paulo,  near  II  Duomo,  are  to  be 
found  the  ruins  of  one  other  temple,  consisting  of  a 
number  of  Doric  columns  standing  half  their  height 
below  the  present  level  of  the  city  streets.  These 
relics  are  all  that  is  left  of  a  temple  of  Diana,  or,  as  is 
more  likely,  of  Apollo,  for  a  badly  mutilated  inscrip- 
tion on  the  highest  step  of  the  stylobate  indicates  that 
the  ancient  fane  was  dedicated  to  the  great  god  of 
the  Siceliots.  This  structure  was  of  unusual  length, 
being  flanked  by  at  least  nineteen,  or  perhaps  twenty, 
columns  on  each  side;  it  was  seventy- one  feet  in 
width,  but  as  part  of  the  stylobate  lies  buried  be- 
neath the  modern  buildings  it  is  impossible  to  deter- 
mine the  original  dimensions. 

In  the  Museum  of  Syracuse  is  a  statue  of  Venus 
Anadyomene,  discovered  in  1804  by  the  Marchese 
Landolina  in  the  Bonavia  Gardens.  The  proportions 
of  the  statue  are  a  little  larger  than  life,  and  although 
the  head  and  right  arm  are  wanting,  it  is  a  most  pre- 
cious relic  of  Greek  art.  The  shoulders,  the  chest, 
the  back,  the  hips,  are  superbly  modelled,  and  it 
would  be  difficult  to  imagine  a  figure  more  admirably 
posed  and  executed.  The  Venus  of  Syracuse,  or  Lando- 
lina, by  some  authorities  said  to  be  that  Venus  Callip- 
yge  which  was  modelled  in  Athens  for  Heliogabalus 
and  by  him  presented  to  the  citizens  of  Syracuse,  is  a 
perfect  expression  of  mature  womanly  beauty  of  form; 
and,  although  not  possessing  the  stately  grace  of  the 


296  PICTURESQUE   SICILY 

Venus  of  Milo,  is  nevertheless  truer  to  human  nat- 
ure. Less  affected  in  pose  than  the  Venus  de'  Medici, 
she  appeals  to  the  artistic  sense  by  the  unstudied 
charm  of  her  attitude  and  the  promise  it  gives  of 
lissome  freedom  of  action  did  she  but  choose  to 
move. 

Ortygia,  towards  its  southern  limits,  narrows  to  a 
long  point,  on  the  end  of  which  stands  Castello  Mani- 
ace,  rebuilt  in  1038  A.D.  by  George  Maniaces,  after  he 
had  reconquered  Syracuse  from  the  Saracens.  Little 
has  been  written  about  this  Byzantine  soldier,  the 
last  catapan  of  the  Greeks,  who  attempted,  with  the 
aid  of  the  Normans  under  William  of  the  Iron  Arm, 
to  restore  Sicily  to  the  sway  of  the  Emperors  of  the 
East  ;  but  at  Syracuse  his  memory  is  perpetuated  in 
the  name  of  a  street  leading  from  La  Piazza  del 
Duomo  to  the  Castello,  and  by  the  Castello  itself. 
The  latter,  however,  does  not  exhibit  the  designs  or 
method  of  construction  employed  by  Byzantine  build- 
ers of  Maniaces'  day.  The  oldest  parts  of  the  pres- 
ent buildings  are  of  the  thirteenth  rather  than  of  the 
eleventh  century,  and  were  doubtless  erected  during 
the  time  of  the  Emperor  Frederick  II.  The  castle 
stands  as  a  monument  to  the  name  and  fame  of  a 
great  soldier;  nor  are  the  Syracusans  of  to-day  un- 
mindful of  the  man  worthy  to  be  named  with  Gelon 
and  with  Timoleon,  "  deliverer  of  the  city."  We  ex- 
amined with  interest  a  marble  gateway  said  to  have 
beeiv  constructed  by  order  of  Maniaces,  and  above 
which  he  placed  "  two  ancient  Greek  rams  carved  in 
bronze,  that  bleated  with  the  wind."  The  bronzes 
have  disappeared  from  the  Gate  of  Maniaces;  one 
only  is  known  to  be  in  existence,  and   that  we  had 


ORTYGIA  297 

seen  in  the  museum  at  Palermo.  The  great  portal  of 
the  castle,  a  gloomy,  frowning  structure  of  unorna- 
mented  arches,  with  a  round  tower  on  each  side, 
shows  the  deep  groove  of  an  ancient  portcullis  and 
the  fittings  of  a  drawbridge,  recalling  the  appurte- 
nances of  the  mediaeval  castles  of  Germany  and  other 
Northern  lands.  The  roof  of  the  main  tower  of  this 
castle  commands  the  most  comprehensive  view  of 
Ortygia  and  of  the  surrounding  land  and  sea.  Stand- 
ing here  we  could  readily  imagine  that  in  ancient 
times,  in  the  days  of  Timoleon,  who  men  said  "  was 
favored  by  the  gods  wherever  he  went " — Timoleon, 
the  man  worthiest  of  fame  in  the  story  of  ancient 
Sicily,  who  having  destroyed  the  power  of  the  ty- 
rants, and  annihilated  the  army  of  the  Carthaginians 
in  the  battle  by  the  River  Crimisus,  raised  Syracuse 
to  the  highest  point  of  her  greatness  and  grandeur; 
we  could  well  believe  that  in  those  old  days  the  Great 
Harbor  of  Syracuse  presented  a  magnificent  spectacle 
when  viewed  from  the  sea-walls  of  Ortygia.  Upon  its 
surface,  which  in  the  sunlight  shines  like  a  mirror  of 
steel,  floated  hundreds  upon  hundreds  of  vessels,  the 
navies  of  Syracuse,  Sicilian  ships,  Greek,  Phoenician, 
and  Roman  merchantmen,  exhibiting  a  forest  of  masts, 
a  network  of  cordage,  sails  of  all  colors,  while  count- 
less small  boats  plied  between  the  ships  and  the  land- 
ing-places. In  those  days  the  water-front  of  Syracuse 
extended  along  the  Great  Harbor  from  the  point  of 
Ortygia  for  nearly  three  miles,  following  the  bending 
shore  to  the  mouth  of  the  Anapo ;  so  that  it  was  well 
said  that  "  the  harbor  did  not  surround  the  city,  but 
the  city  the  harbor."  In  the  days  of  Timoleon  the 
seaport    Syracuse   was    equalled    in    importance    and 


298  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

wealth  by  no  other  city  in  the  world,  not  even  Ath- 
ens or  Corinth  excepted,  and  its  ancient  harbor  was 
the  marvel  of  the  nations.  Protected  from  all  the 
winds,  it  afforded  safe  anchorage  for  multitudes  of 
vessels ;  around  its  shores  were  the  famous  arsenals, 
ship-yards,  and  careening-places,  where  thousands  of 
slaves — carpenters,  shipwrights,  sail-makers — equipped 
the  fleets  built  of  timber  cut  from  the  sides  of  ^Etna 
and  the  great  central  forests  of  Sicily,  rigging  them 
with  cordage  of  hemp  grown  on  the  table-lands,  and 
fitting  them  with  sails  of  canvas  woven  of  flax  grown 
on  the  borders  of  the  great  plains  of  Catania  and 
Noto. 

Who  can  picture  to  the  mind  the  tremendous  activ- 
ity and  life  of  this  city  of  Timoleon,  a  city  said  to 
have  contained  more  than  a  million  inhabitants,  the 
metropolis  of  the  Siceliots,  or  imagine  the  spectacle 
presented  to  the  gaze  of  thousands  of  spectators  upon 
that  day  sacred  to  Hercules,  more  than  twenty-three 
centuries  ago,  when  Greek  met  Greek  in  a  naval  com- 
bat which,  if  not  the  greatest  and  most  momentous  in 
its  results  of  all  sea-fights,  has  nevertheless  been  de- 
scribed as  no  other  combat  has  ever  been  described, 
by  the  master  historian  of  ancient  and  modern  times. 

Present  on  the  scene  of  action,  we  aided  imagina- 
tion by  studying  the  story  of  the  engagement,  as  it  is 
told  by  Thucydides,  appreciating  as  never  before  the 
realism  of  his  superb  word-painting.  The  prose  epic 
excites  the  imagination,  stirs  the  heart,  and  conjures 
up  mind-pictures  of  the  throng  of  onlookers  that  lined 
the  shore  of  the  Great  Harbor  when  the  crews  of  two 
hundred  ships  of  war  contended  for  the  mastery  of 
the  civilized  world. 


ORTYGIA  299 

Think  of  that  combat  to  the  death  !  The  gladia- 
tors— ninety  thousand  men,  and  such  men  ! — Athen- 
ians and  Spartans;  the  amphitheatre  a  land-locked 
bay,  from  the  contracted  limits  of  which  there  was  no 
escape  save  through  the  narrow  entrance  between  the 
rocks  of  Ortygia  on  the  north  and  the  reefs  of  Plem- 
myrium  on  the  south ;  the  spectators  a  million  inhabi- 
tants of  Syracuse,  the  city  that  had  excited  the  envy 
and  braved  the  wrath  of  Athens ;  more  than  forty 
thousand  Ionian  Greeks,  in  mad  desperation,  agoniz- 
ing to  reach  the  open  sea ;  as  many  Dorian  Greeks, 
daring  all  things,  scorning  death  in  their  determina- 
tion utterly  to  destroy  their  enemies  there  and  on 
that  very  day. 

It  is  true  the  Athenian  ships  outnumbered  the 
Syracusan,  but  the  latter  had  the  advantage  in  the 
fact  that  almost  all  the  shores  of  the  harbor  were 
open  to  them,  while  the  Athenians  were  confined  to 
the  small  space  within  the  walls  of  their  encampment. 
When  the  Athenian  ships,  in  their  last  desperate  effort 
to  break  the  blockade,  sailed  straight  for  the  bar  at 
the  mouth  of  the  harbor,*  the  Syracusans  attacked 
them  on  all  sides.  The  fight  was  desperate ;  the 
Athenians  were  broken  in  spirit,  and,  although  there 
were  nearly  fifty  thousand  of  them,  every  one  of  whom 
fought  most  courageously,  they  did  not  behave  as  men 
assured  of  victory,  as  did  the  soldiers  under  Gylippus. 

"  When  the  Athenians  came  up  to  the  bar,  in  the 
first  rush  with  which  they  charged  they  got  the  better 
of  the  ships  posted  at  it,  and  endeavored  to  break 
the  fastenings.     Afterwards,  when  the  Syracusans  and 

*  The  Great  Harbor  was  but  three  miles  in  diameter  and  the  en- 
trance but  thirteen  hundred  yards  in  width. 


300  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

their  allies  bore  down  upon  them  from  all  quarters, 
the  battle  was  going  on  no  longer  at  the  bar  alone, 
but  over  all  the  harbor  also ;  and  an  obstinate  fight  it 
was,  such  as  no  previous  combat  had  been,  for  the 
greatest  eagerness  in  the  attack  was  exhibited  by  the 
seamen  on  both  sides ;  indeed,  every  one,  whatever 
the  duty  assigned  to  him,  made  every  effort  to  the 
end  that  he  might  himself,  in  each  case,  appear  the 
best  man.  After  the  battle  had  been  obstinately  dis- 
puted, and  many  ships  and  men  destroyed  on  both 
sides,  the  Syracusans  and  their  allies,  having  gained 
the  victory,  took  up  their  wrecks  and  dead  and  sailed 
away  to  the  city  and  erected  a  trophy.  The  Athen- 
ians, who  in  the  extent  of  their  present  misery  did  not 
so  much  as  think  of  the  dead  or  the  wreck  of  their 
ships,  returned  to  their  camp,"  to  march  thence  to 
meet  their  doom  on  the  banks  of  the  Assinorus. 

The  Syracusans  sullied  their  honor  by  the  hideous 
cruelty  which  they  practised  on  the  remnant  of  the 
armies  of  Nicias  and  Demosthenes,  whom  they  left  to 
die  of  thirst  and  starvation  in  the  quarries  of  Acra- 
dina.  Nicias  is  to  be  pitied  by  all  brave  hearts.  He 
opposed  the  unrighteous  ambitions  of  his  country- 
men, but  was  too  good  a  soldier,  too  patriotic  an 
Athenian,  to  refuse  to  serve  his  native  land  when 
chosen  to  lead  her  army  and  navy  in  the  field  and 
upon  the  sea.  When,  finally,  he  was  compelled  to 
surrender  his  army  he  besought  Gylippus  to  spare  the 
lives  of  his  soldiers,  and  passed  to  his  death  with  sub- 
lime courage,  "  least  of  all  Greeks  of  my  time," 
exclaims  Thucydides,  "  deserving  to  meet  such  mis- 
fortunes on  account  of  his  devoted  attention  to  the 
practice  of  every  virtue." 


XXXIV 
ACRAD INA 

Names  of  Streets — "The  City  of  Wild  Pear -Trees" — Santa 
Lucia  —  The  Apostle  Paul  —  La  Latomia  dei  Cappuccini, 
"The  Gethsemane  of  a  Nation." 

Mythology  and  history,  pagan  and  Christian  biog- 
raphy, have  been  drawn  upon  to  provide  names  for  the 
streets  and  public  places  of  Syracuse.  The  "  Inner 
City,"  modern  Syracuse,  is  traversed  lengthwise  by 
two  irregular,  crooked  thoroughfares.  La  Via  Dione 
(so  named  after  the  mother  of  Venus),  beginning  at 
"  The  Prisons,"  extends  south  to  La  Piazza  Archi- 
mede,  intersects  II  Corso  Vittorio  Emanuele,  beyond 
which  its  prolongation  is  called  La  Via  Roma.  Par- 
allel to  La  Via  Dione,  La  Via  Cavour  extends  north 
and  south,  intersects  II  Corso,  crosses  La  Piazza  del 
Duomo,  beyond  which  it  changes  its  name  to  La  Via 
Maniace.  La  Via  Gelone  recalls  the  days  of  "the 
deliverer  "  of  Syracuse,  Gelon,  "  who  enlarged  the 
city  at  the  expense  of  the  older  cities  of  Trinacria  " ; 
II  Passeggio  Aretusa  awakens  fancies  of  the  age  of 
fable;  La  Via  Principessa  Margarita  brings  one's 
thoughts  back  to  the  present  times ;  La  Piazza  Savon- 
arola, La  Via  Garibaldi,  and  La  Piazza  Minerva  give 
the  traveller  some  slight  hint  of  the  changeful  chron- 
icles of  Syracuse.     These  names,  with  many  others  of 


302  PICTURESQUE  SICILY 

no  less  historical  import,  recall  the  history  of  three 
thousand  years,  the  annals  of  the  town  that  sleeps 
where  once  the  magnificent  city  stirred  itself  in  the 
fulness  of  its  life  and  power. 

Ortygia  offered  an  ideal  site  for  a  great  commercial 
city,  and  from  the  days  of  its  foundation  by  Archias 
and  his  band  of  adventurers  Syracuse  increased  in 
size  and  population  with  marvellous  rapidity.  In 
seventy  years  the  city  was  powerful  enough  to  estab- 
lish many  colonies  in  Sicily,  Acrai,  Casmanai,  Helo- 
rum,  Netum,  Enna,  among  others.  When  the  metropo- 
lis, "  the  mother  city  of  Ortygia,"  became  too  small 
to  contain  its  inhabitants,  it  spread  to  the  mainland 
and  occupied  the  open  space  extending  from  the 
isthmus  and  the  Two  Harbors  to  the  foot  of  the  hills. 
In  time  all  the  seaward  part  of  the  promontory  of 
Thapsus  was  covered  by  the  dwellings  and  public  edi- 
fices of  a  new  precinct  known  as  Acradina,  so  called 
from  the  wild  pear-trees  that  grew  among  the  rocks 
and  crags.  Later  there  were  annexed  two  additional 
suburbs,  Tyche  on  the  northern  angle,  and  Neapolis  at 
the  southern  corner  of  Acradina;  and,  finally,  when 
Syracuse  attained  its  greatest  dimensions,  in  the  time 
of  Dionysius  I.,  the  houses  spread  over  Epipolae,  and 
a  large  part  of  the  plateau  of  Thapsus  was  included 
within  the  city  walls.  At  this  time  Syracuse  embraced 
within  its  limits  five  great  cities,  Ortygia  (known  as 
the  "  Inner  City "),  Acradina,  Tyche,  Neapolis,  and 
Epipolae.  The  four  last-named  precincts,  collective- 
ly known  as  the  "  Outer  City,"  were  enclosed  by  a 
continuous  wall,  180  stadia,  or  22  English  miles,  in 
circumference.  Different  authorities  variously  esti- 
mate   the   total    population    of  Syracuse   during  the 


ACRADINA  303 

fourth  century  B.C.  at  from  eight  hundred  thousand 
to  one  million  five  hundred  thousand  souls.  Great, 
indeed,  must  have  been  the  city  that  drove  the  Car- 
thaginians from  its  territories,  destroyed  the  army  and 
navy  of  Athens,  and,  for  three  years,  successfully  de- 
fied all  assaults  of  the  Romans  under  Marcellus. 

From  the  day  of  its  capture  by  the  Romans,  Syra- 
cuse declined  in  size,  in  wealth,  in  commercial  and 
political  importance,  and,  sinking  to  the  level  of  a 
provincial  town,  gradually  lost  her  social  and  political 
supremacy,  and  thereafter  made  no  great  figure  in  the 
history  of  the  world.  When  the  Saracens  captured 
Syracuse,  in  878  A.D.,  all  its  buildings  were  burned  to 
the  ground,  and  all  its  inhabitants  were  either  put  to 
the  sword,  or  carried  off  into  slavery  by  their  conquer- 
ors. Since  that  time,  now  more  than  a  thousand 
years  ago,  Acradina,  Neapolis,  Tyche,  and  Epipolae 
have  lain  in  ruin,  and  no  attempt  has  ever  been  made 
to  rebuild  them.  Only  Ortygia,  "  the  mother  city," 
has  preserved  the  name  of  Syracuse  from  death,  but 
in  the  place  of  a  city  of  a  million  or  more  inhabitants 
there  remains  to-day  but  a  small  town  of  a  few  thou- 
sand souls. 

Beginning  our  explorations  of  Acradina,  the  second 
city  of  the  Syracusan  pentapolis,  we  crossed  from  Or- 
tygia to  the  mainland,  traversed  the  ancient  necropo- 
lis, and  arrived  at  an  open  circular  space  where  three 
roads  meet.  Taking  that  one  leading  to  the  east,  be- 
tween the  Little  Harbor,  the  sea-shore,  and  the  cliffs 
of  Acradina,  we  passed  a  solitary  column  of  red  mar- 
ble (all  that  remains  above  ground  of  what  was  proba- 
bly the  ancient  Agora  of  Syracuse),  and  came  to  the 
so-called  house  of  Agathocles,  from  which  a  narrow 


304  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

lane  leads  north  from  the  sea-shore  to  La  Chiesa  di 
Santa  Lucia.  This  edifice  was  erected  in  the  elev- 
enth century  on  the  spot  where  the  patron  saint  of 
Syracuse  is  said  to  have  been  cruelly  put  to  death. 
We  entered  the  old  church,  which,  in  itself,  is  in  no 
way  noteworthy,  and  found  a  painting  of  the  burial  of 
Santa  Lucia,  by  Caravaggio,  the  granite  column  to 
which  she  was  bound  during  her  flagellation,  and  a 
marble  statue  of  her,  said  to  be  by  Bernini.  But  none 
of  all  these  things  interested  us ;  Caravaggio,  if  in- 
deed the  picture  is  by  him,  has  not  painted  the 
maiden  as  beautiful  or  charming  as  we  were  willing  to 
imagine  her  to  have  been,  and  it  was  difficult  to  per- 
suade ourselves  that  Bernini's  chisel  had  shaped  the 
marble  effigy,  which  certainly  is  a  very  mediocre  work 
of  art. 

Not  far  from  the  Church  of  Santa  Lucia  stands  the 
small  sanctuary  of  San  Giovanni.  Of  the  original 
building,  founded  in  1182  A.D.,  but  little  remains,  save 
a  beautiful  doorway,  and  over  the  west  portal  a  Goth- 
ic wheel-window,  finely  carved.  The  church  is  not  in- 
teresting in  itself,  but  is  nevertheless  worthy  of  a  visit, 
for  the  legend  runs  that  what  is  now  the  crypt  was, 
in  very  early  Christian  days,  the  Chapel  of  San  Mar- 
cian,  in  which  the  Apostle  Paul  is  alleged  to  have 
preached  while  he  tarried  "  for  three  days  at  Syra- 
cuse." In  this  crypt  are  the  remains  of  old  frescos 
and  an  ancient  tomb,  alleged  to  be  that  of  San  Mar- 
cian ;  but  of  the  visit  of  the  great  Apostle  to  the  Gen- 
tiles there  are  no  reminders  nor  evidences  of  any  sort. 
It  is,  however,  not  at  all  improbable  that  St.  Paul  did, 
indeed,  minister  in  this  suburban  chapel,  where  the 
fathers  of  the  Church  of  Syracuse  were  wont  to  meet 


ACRADINA  305 

in  a  solitary  place  outside  of  the  city  walls  to  worship 
the  "  strange,  new  God,"  the  unknown  God  of  whom 
the  apostle  preached  to  the  men  of  Athens. 

Returning  to  the  Church  of  Santa  Lucia,  we  con- 
tinued along  the  shore,  made  a  long  ascent  to  the  lev- 
el plateau  of  Acradina,  and  at  the  southeastern  angle 
of  the  cliffs  found  an  old  monastery  of  the  Capuchins, 
near  which  are  the  remains  of  extensive  walls  recently 
excavated,  probably  the  foundations  of  a  Temple  of 
Ceres.  At  the  eastern  side  of  the  monastery  we  en- 
tered a  gateway  and  followed  a  narrow  cart-track 
scarped  in  the  front  of  perpendicular  cliffs,  passing 
between  a  wall  of  natural  limestone  rock,  all  over- 
grown with  vines,  and  a  hedge-row  of  myrtle,  laurel, 
roses,  honeysuckle,  aloes,  and  cacti.  The  road  led 
down  into  a  vast  quarry  a  hundred  feet  in  depth,  at 
the  bottom  of  which  we  found  ourselves  in  an  un- 
imaginable, indescribable  place,  a  vast  subterranean 
labyrinth,  a  series  of  halls  and  galleries  of  narrow 
chambers  and  wide  amphitheatres,  of  which  the  roofs 
seemed  to  have  been  removed  by  some  mysterious 
agency,  leaving  the  immeasurable  excavations  open  to 
the  air  of  heaven.  Thus  exposed  to  sunshine  and  to 
rain,  the  soil  that  now  covers  the  bottom  of  the  quar- 
ry has  sent  up  bewildering  varieties  of  greenery,  and 
the  naked  cliffs  are  masked  and  draped  with  garlands 
of  vines  and  masses  of  hanging  shrubbery.  In  this 
sunken  garden,  enclosed  by  walls  a  hundred  feet  in 
height,  all  vegetation  flourishes  in  wild  luxuriance;  no 
wind  blows  rudely  to  mar  the  fresh  beauty  of  buds 
and  blossoms,  no  sweeping  gale  prematurely  strips  the 
trees  and  shrubbery  of  their  ripened  fruit  or  mature 
leafage.     Protected  from  tempests,  nourished  by  vege- 


306  picturesque  sicily 

table  mould,  orange  and  lemon  trees  stand  straight 
and  fair  to  see,  pomegranates  and  all  kinds  of  fruits 
ripen  and  drop  from  the  unshaken  branches;  wild  fig- 
trees  grow  in  the  fissures  of  the  cliffs,  old  olives  firmly 
root  themselves  amid  fallen  bowlders,  and  ivy,  wista- 
ria, bougainvillea  festoon  the  towering  walls.  Every- 
where are  roses  and  lentisk,  lilacs — a  world  of  beauti- 
ful flowers — and  the  acanthus,  loved  by  the  Corinthian 
ancestors  of  the  men  who  quarried  the  living  rock  to 
build  them  houses  and  temples  for  the  gods,  grows 
rank  under  foot.  And  all  this  greenery  is  set  off  by 
a  background  of  golden-gray  limestone,  white-shining 
in  the  sunlight;  in  the  early  morning  and  at  evening 
tinted  with  the  hues  of  Sicilian  amber,  "  dolce  color 
d'  oriental  berillo."  Beautiful  as  it  is  to-day,  this  gar- 
den was  the  "  Gethsemane  of  a  nation."  In  ancient 
times,  when  La  Latomia  was  but  an  unsightly  laby- 
rinth, where  no  green  thing  grew  on  the  naked,  inhos- 
pitable rock,  seven  thousand  Athenians,  the  remnant 
of  the  army  of  Nicias,  were  shut  up  in  this  horrid 
prison-house  and  left  to  die  of  their  wounds,  to  fall  a 
prey  to  disease.  Tormented  by  thirst,  by  hunger,  by 
heat,  and  by  cold,  poisoned  by  infection  bred  from 
the  putrefying  corpses  of  their  companions,  "  the  pu- 
pils of  Socrates,  the  admirers  of  Euripides,  the  orators 
of  Pnyx,  the  athletes  of  the  Lyceum,  lovers  and  com- 
rades and  philosophers  died  here  like  dogs,  and  the 
dames  of  Syracuse  stood,  doubtless,  on  those  parapets 
above  and  looked  upon  them  like  wild  beasts.  How 
often,  pining  in  those  great,  glaring  pits,  which  were 
not  then  curtained  by  ivy  nor  canopied  by  the  olive- 
trees,  must  the  Athenians  .  .  .  have  watched  the  dawn 
walk  forth  fire -footed  from  the  edge  of  those  bare 


ACRADINA  307 

crags,  or  the  stars  glide  from  east  to  west  across  the 
narrow  space  of  sky.  How  they  must  have  envied 
the  far  flight  of  the  hawk  and  swallow,  sighing,  '  O 
that  I  too  had  the  wings  of  a  bird.'  The  weary  eyes, 
turned  upward,  found  no  change  or  respite,  save  that 
which  the  frost  of  night  brought  to  the  fire  of  day,  and 
the  burning  sun  to  the  pitiless,  cold  constellations."  * 

Thucydides  tells  us  that  for  seventy  days  the  sev- 
en thousand  Athenians  lived  in  these  pits,  crowded 
together,  where  they  were  treated  with  great  cruelty, 
receiving,  each  of  them,  daily,  no  more  than  a  cotyle 
(about  half  an  English  pint)  of  water,  and  two  of 
corn.  In  their  torment  the  miserable  captives  suf- 
fered "  all  the  other  miseries  which  it  was  likely  that 
men  thrown  into  such  a  place  would  suffer,  there  being 
no  misfortune  nor  agony  that  did  not  fall  to  their  lot." 

"Some  of  the  captives  are  said  to  have  won  their 
release  and  freedom  by  repeating  the  verses  of  Eurip- 
ides, at  whose  feet  they  flung  themselves  when  they 
arrived  at  length  in  their  native  Athens." 

A  few  were  sold  into  slavery,  but  the  majority  died 
in  their  captivity,  and  at  last  there  remained  no  rem- 
nant of  the  most  splendid  armament  of  Athens  but 
heaps  of  corpses,  putrefying  bodies  of  dead  men. 

La  Latomia  dei  Cappuccini  is  many  acres  in  ex- 
tent, and  as  we  threaded  the  windings  of  the  endless 
labyrinth  it  was  easy  to.  fancy  that  we  wandered 
amid  natural  scenery,  at  the  bottom  of  wooded 
chasms,  overhung  by  cliffs  and  crags ;  it  seemed  im- 
possible that  such  vast  excavations  could  have  been 
hewn  from  the  living  rock,  even  by  a  multitude   of 

*  T.  A.   Symonds.     Italian  Sketches. 


308  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

toiling  slaves.  Unimaginably,  indescribably  beautiful 
is  this  sunken  garden,  which  the  men  of  to-day  call  La 
Selva — "  the  wild  woods." 

From  the  tangle  of  vegetation  which  covers  the 
bottom  of  the  quarries,  great  trees  lift  their  branches 
sixty  or  eighty  feet  into  the  still  air,  but  do  not  over- 
top the  surrounding  walls,  which  in  many  places  have 
been  undermined  where  enormous  caves  and  cham- 
bers are  hollowed  in  the  rock.  From  the  face  of  the 
cliffs  vast  masses  of  limestone,  detached  by  time  and 
earthquakes,  have  fallen  and  lie  heaped  in  grand  con- 
fusion, and  many  huge,  fantastical  shapes  of  rock  rise 
island-like  amid  a  sea  of  vegetation.  In  one  of  the 
grandest  amphitheatres  there  stands  up  an  enormous 
body  of  rock,  in  shape  like  the  bow  of  a  ship,  more 
than  ninety  feet  in  height,  and  near  this  is  a  monu- 
ment bearing  this  inscription: 

A  GIUSEPPI   MAZZINI 

Perche  tra  noi  sia  durabilmente  onorata 

La  memoria  d'  un  grande  uomo, 

Pongono  riverenti  questa  lapide, 

Gli  operai  della  Societa  Archimede. 

MDCCCLXXII. 

Beautiful  as  it  is  in  all  its  aspects  and  at  all  hours, 
this  rock -walled  paradise  is,  nevertheless,  an  unholy 
place,  and  many  grim  tales  of  murder  and  suicide 
haunt  about  its  crags  and  pitfalls.  In  1894,  on  New- 
year's  Day — of  all  the  days  in  the  year — a  little  boy 
who  had  stolen  three  lire,  and  therefore  dreaded  pun- 
ishment, dashed  himself  from  the  top  of  the  cliffs  to 
the  rocks  eighty  or  ninety  feet  below.  Marvellous 
to  relate,  he  was  not  killed,  nor  mortally  wounded. 


ACRADINA  309 

"  Perhaps,"  said  our  Sicilian  guide,  "he  called  to  Santa 
Lucia  as  he  was  falling.  She  has  worked  many  mir- 
acles more  difficult  to  perform  than  the  saving  of  the 
life  of  a  wicked  boy."  Nearby  where  the  would-be 
suicide  was  found,  maimed,  but  still  alive,  are  the 
graves  of  five  self-murderers,  who  were  buried  where 
they  fell  and  lie  in  nameless  sepulchres.  Here,  too,  is 
the  tomb  of  "  Richard  Reynall,  Esq.,  British  Vice- 
Consul  to  Syracuse,  who  departed  this  life  September 
16,  1838  A.D."  It  is  said  that  the  Englishman  was 
killed  in  a  duel  by  an  antagonist,  who,  having  pro- 
voked the  quarrel,  chose  weapons  in  the  use  of  which 
he  himself  was  expert,  but  which  the  Englishman 
knew  not  how  to  wield.  An  inscription  carved  on  the 
wall  of  rock  marks  the  place  of  burial  of  "  William 
K.  Nicholson,  Midshipman  in  the  Navy  of  the  United 
States  of  America,  who  was  cut  off  from  society  in 
the  bloom  of  life  and  health  on  the  18th  day  of  Sep- 
temper,  1804  A.D.,  et  anno  cetatis  18."  We  made  dili- 
gent inquiries,  hoping  to  learn  something  more  of  the 
history  of  our  young  countryman,  who,  dying  in  a 
foreign  land,  was  laid  to  rest  in  this  unconsecrated 
spot ;  but  could  find  no  record  of  his  burial,  and  were 
obliged  to  be  content  with  an  explanation  vouchsafed 
by  our  cicerone : 

"  Perhaps  the  young  Americano  was  buried  in  La 
Latomia  for  the  reason  that,  years  ago,  the  bodies  of 
heretics  were  not  allowed  to  be  interred  in  the  public 
cemetery." 

Not  far  from  the  entrance  of  La  Latomia  dei  Cap- 
puccini  are  the  catacombs — "  Grotte  di  San  Giovan- 
ni " — said  by  different  authorities  to  have  been  built 
by  the  Greeks,  the  Romans,  or  the  Saracens.    Little  is 


3IO  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

known  of  them  except  that  they  were  used  as  burial- 
places,  and  that  they  extend  for  miles  in  all  direc- 
tions into  the  heart  of  the  limestone  rock  of  Acra- 
dina.  Countless  streets  and  galleries  connect  spacious 
circular  and  vaulted  rooms  surrounded  by  niches  and 
alcoves  in  which  the  dead  were  entombed.  It  is  said 
that  there  were  more  than  three  hundred  and  sixty  of 
these  circular  apartments,  and,  according  to  tradition, 
the  catacombs  extended  as  far  as  to  the  River  Sebe- 
tos,  if  not  indeed  as  far  as  to  Catania.  If  this  in- 
credible statement  be  true,  the  tunnelling  of  the 
modern  world  is  as  nothing  compared  to  the  long 
excavations  of  the  catacombs  of  Syracuse. 

The  hill-sides  above  the  Little  Harbor,  between  the 
catacombs  and  Neapolis,  are  covered  with  the  ruins  of 
ancient  tombs  and  niches  cut  in  the  rock  to  receive 
funereal  urns,  and  from  the  heaps  of  debris  rise  the 
remains  of  two  Doric  pillars  said  to  mark  the  tombs 
of  Timoleon  and  Archimedes.  There  is  no  trust- 
worthy authority  for  assuming  that  the  two  great 
men  lie  buried  here  ;  it  is  improbable  that  the  so- 
called  tomb  of  Archimedes  is  that  monument  which 
Cicero  says  he  found  "  covered  with  brushwood  and 
overrun  with  brambles,  so  that  it  was  utterly  un- 
known to  the  Syracusans,  who  even  denied  its  exist- 
ence," therefore  there  is  little  reason  to  believe  that 
the  Roman  quaestor  was  justified  in  boasting  that 
"  the  noblest  city  of  Greece,  which  was  once  also  the 
most  learned,  would  have  remained  in  ignorance  of 
the  monument  of  her  most  distinguished  citizen,  un- 
less she  had  learned  of  it  from  a  man  of  Arpinum."* 

*  Tusculum  Disputations,  V.,  23. 


XXXV 

NEAPOLIS 

New  Syracuse— Roman  Amphitheatre— Grand  Altar  of  Hieron 
— La  Latomia  del  Paradiso— The  Ear  of  Dionysius — The 
Bath  of  Venus— Greek  Theatre — Timoleon. 

So  far  our  explorations  had  been  confined  within 
the  limits  of  Acradina,  the  oldest  of  the  four  cities  on 
the  mainland.  On  the  following  day  we  again  found 
our  way  to  the  open  space  on  the  isthmus  connecting 
Ortygia  with  the  necropolis ;  and,  taking  that  road 
which  leads  directly  north  from  the  site  of  the  ancient 
Agora,  we  began  our  explorations  of  Neapolis,  the 
third  of  the  five  cities  of  the  pentapolis.  Crossing  a 
meadow  we  pass  by  the  remains  of  a  Roman  reservoir 
and  come  to  the  Roman  amphitheatre  built  in  the 
time  of  Augustus. 

In  general  plan  the  amphitheatre  of  Syracuse  is 
like  all  Roman  amphitheatres.  The  arena,  in  the 
middle  of  which  is  a  vast  cistern,  or  "  naumachia,"  is 
surrounded  by  a  wall  seven  feet  in  height,  with  a  cor- 
nice inscribed  with  the  names  of  distinguished  and 
privileged  persons  who  once  occupied  the  seats  in  the 
lower  tiers.  Beneath  the  first  tier  of  sedilia  is  a 
vaulted  corridor,  from  which  eight  gates  open  into 
the  arena,  to  give  entrance  to  wild  beasts  and  gladi- 
ators.    Of  the  seats  on  the  eastern  side,  the  two  lower 


312  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

tiers,  which  were  hewn  from  the  solid  rock,  only  remain ; 
those  on  the  western  side  of  the  amphitheatre  have 
almost  entirely  disappeared,  while  of  the  upper  tiers 
hardly  a  vestige  remains.  This  monumental  edifice 
bears  witness  to  the  degradation  of  the  Greek  citizens 
of  Syracuse,  who,  when  they  had  been  corrupted  by 
the  bloody  spectacles  in  which  the  Romans  delighted, 
no  longer  took  pleasure  in  the  dramas  and  comedies 
of  the  Greek  poets.  Syracuse,  like  her  metropolis, 
Corinth,  when  both  had  fallen  to  the  level  of  Roman 
provincial  towns,  became  the  rival  of  Capua  in  the 
magnificence  of  her  gladiatorial  shows.  And  we  may 
well  believe  that  the  debased  creatures  who  frequented 
the  amphitheatre  rarely  visited  the  theatre  where  the 
plays  of  Sophocles,  Euripides,  vEschylus,  and  Aris- 
tophanes were  performed,  preferring  to  look  upon  the 
combats  of  man  with  man,  or  man  with  beast,  taking 
delight  in  fouler  and  more  cruel  spectacles. 

About  one  hundred  yards  beyond  the  amphithea- 
tre is  the  Grand  Altar  of  Hiero  II.,  a  vast  platform 
(six  hundred  and  forty -five  feet  in  length  and  sev- 
enty-five feet  in  width)  where,  in  the  days  of  Syracu- 
san  magnificence,  were  annually  offered  four  hundred 
and  fifty  oxen,  to  commemorate  the  expulsion  of  the 
tyrant  Thrasybulus.  An  attempt  has  been  made  to 
rid  the  masonry  of  the  amphitheatre  and  altar  of  the 
weeds  and  shrubbery,  with  which  until  recently  both 
were  overgrown.  This  care  may  serve  to  protect  the 
masonry  from  further  deterioration,  but  it  certainly 
robs  the  ancient  relics  of  much  of  their  picturesque 
beauty,  leaving  them  gaunt  and  gray  in  undisguised 
ruin. 

Opposite  the  Grand  Altar  is  the  entrance  to  La 


NEAPOLIS  313 

Latomia  del  Paradiso,  which,  although  not  nearly  so 
large  as  La  Latomia  dei  Cappuccini,  is  in  some  re- 
spects more  remarkable  and  picturesque.  These  quar- 
ries are  many  acres  in  extent,  of  irregular  form,  and 
on  two  sides  the  walls  have  been  scarped,  forming 
caverns,  the  roofs  of  which  are  upheld  by  enormous 
columns  left  standing  for  the  purpose.  Some  of  the 
hall-like  excavations  are  a  hundred  feet  in  length,  al- 
most as  wide,  and  thirty,  forty,  and  even  fifty  or  sixty 
feet  in  height.  The  largest  of  them  is  used  to-day  as 
a  rope-walk,  where  we  saw  men  and  women  in  quaint, 
ragged  costumes  busily  employed  making  cordage, 
using  implements  of  the  same  old  fashion  that  served 
the  purpose  of  the  ancients. 

Adjoining  La  Latomia  del  Paradiso,  or,  rather,  on 
its  western  border,  is  "  L'  Orecchio  di  Dionisio,"  an 
immense  grotto  fancied  to  resemble  the  human  ear  in 
form,  which  was  cut,  in  the  shape  of  the  letter  S,  for 
210  feet  into  the  limestone  rock  and  74  feet  in  height, 
contracting  from  the  35  feet  in  width  at  its  entrance 
to  15  feet  at  its  inner  extremity.  The  roof  of  the  cav- 
ern is  lofty  and  pointed,  its  walls  are  perfectly  smooth, 
and,  whether  by  accident  or  design,  it  possesses  won- 
derful acoustic  properties,  and  is  haunted  by  a  mar- 
vellous echo. 

At  one  side  of  the  entrance  of  the  Ear  of  Dionysius 
grows  ivy,  of  what  age  it  is  impossible  to  tell.  The 
trunk  of  the  vine  is  six  inches  in  diameter,  and  its 
branches  are  like  the  boughs  of  a  great  ilex.  A 
hundred  feet  or  more  they  climb,  to  the  top  of  the 
cliffs;  then,  creeping  far  and  wide  along  the  verge  of 
the  precipice,  form  a  cornice  and  a  frieze  of  living 
green  over  the  arched  portal  of  the  cave. 


3H  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

Standing  at  the  opening  of  the  grotto,  prompted 
by  our  guide,  we  repeated  in  chorus  the  formula  by 
which  neophytes  summon  the  spirit  which  presides 
within  the  mysterious  precincts — "  Permesso,  Dioni- 
sio !"  And  our  words  came  back  to  us,  not  once,  but 
countless  times ;  were  shouted  back  to  us,  spoken, 
whispered,  shouted  again  and  again,  until  we  fancied 
we  had  awakened,  not  Dionysius,  but  a  thousand  imps 
that  mocked  at  us.  From  the  trumpet-like  mouth  of 
the  cavern  came  a  thousand  words  for  every  one  that 
we  had  spoken.  It  was  impossible  to  believe  that 
two  words  had  provoked  so  multitudinous  a  reply. 
When,  finally,  the  last  whisper  had  died  away,  our 
guide  shouted  the  words,  "  Enter,  you  are  welcome," 
and  it  seemed  to  us  as  if  a  regiment  repeated  the  in- 
vitation. When  a  bow  was  drawn  across  a  violin  we 
could  fancy  that  the  stringed  instruments  of  twenty 
orchestras  were  being  tuned  ;  when  we  clapped  our 
hands  there  came  back  a  round  of  applause.  A  single 
word  provoked  a  hundred  in  reply,  Dionysius,  in  his 
volubility,  aping  Xanthippe,  wife  of  Socrates;  and  when 
we  tore  a  piece  of  paper  the  sound  was  distinctly 
echoed,  not  once,  but  twice. 

It  is  said  that  the  famous  tyrant  of  Syracuse  con- 
structed this  cavern  on  the  borders  of  the  quarry  used 
by  him  as  a  prison  in  which  to  confine  those  unfortu- 
nate beings  who  disagreed  with  him  concerning  mat- 
ters of  foreign  or  domestic  politics  and  such  members 
of  his  own  household  as  disputed  his  authority.  He 
devised  the  shape  of  it,  and  endowed  it  with  its  acous- 
tic properties,  so  that  he  might  hear  the  words  of 
discontented  captives  and  be  forewarned  if  they  con- 
spired against  him.     In  the  roof,  at  the  far  end  of  the 


NEAPOLIS  315 

grotto,  is  a  little  chamber,  where  Dionysius  sat  listen- 
ing to  the  words  and  whispers  of  his  captives.  We 
ascended  to  this  station  of  the  eavesdropping  tyrant, 
and  although  we  were  more  than  two  hundred  feet 
from  our  guide,  who  remained  at  the  entrance  of  "  The 
Ear,"  we  were  able  to  converse  with  him  in  ordinary 
tones,  having  no  difficulty  in  understanding  every 
word  he  uttered. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  there  is  no  authority  for  the 
statement  that  the  grotto  was  constructed  by  Diony- 
sius or  in  his  time.  This  story  is  now  said  to  have  origi- 
nated in  the  fertile  imagination  of  the  artist  Caravag- 
gio,  who  spent  much  time  in  Syracuse,  where  he  was 
employed  to  decorate  and  embellish  certain  churches. 
Indeed,  it  is  not  possible  to  prove  that  the  grotto  was 
designedly  constructed  by  any  man,  and  we  may 
reasonably  assume  that,  when  it  had  been  made,  for 
some  purpose  now  unguessed,  it  was  found  to  be  pos- 
sessed of  a  remarkable  echo,  just  as  the  Whispering 
Gallery  of  St.  Paul's,  when  completed,  was  found  to 
possess  acoustic  properties  not  imagined  by  Sir  Chris- 
topher Wren  when  he  was  building  the  dome  of  the 
cathedral. 

Near  La  Latomia  del  Paradiso  and  L'  Orecchio  di 
Dionisio  is  La  Latomia  di  Santa  Venere,  one  of  the 
smallest  of  the  many  ancient  quarries  of  Syracuse.  It 
is  by  far  the  most  exquisitely  beautiful  of  them  all. 
Its  depths  have  been  transformed  by  Baron  Targia 
into  a  delightful  garden,  where  grow  all  kinds  of  fair 
and  dainty  plants  and  flowers  in  such  bewildering  va- 
riety that  it  would  be  impossible,  even  for  a  learned 
botanist,  to  make  a  catalogue  of  them,  unless  he  de- 
voted many  days  to  that  delightful  occupation.     We 


316  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

visited  this  bower  of  Venus  in  February,  and,  even 
then,  found  it  surpassingly  beautiful ;  but  when  we 
entered  it  one  April  morning  shortly  after  sunrise, 
and  beheld  it  in  all  the  glory  of  spring-time,  we  won- 
dered if  Venus  had  indeed  deserted  the  enchanted 
place.  Descending  from  the  barren  plateau,  we  ar- 
rived at  the  Bath  of  Venus,  a  small  grotto  at  one  side 
of  La  Latomia,  at  the  bottom  of  a  cliff,  the  face  of 
which  was  hidden  by  vines  and  ferns.  In  front  of  the 
bath  was  a  bed  of  roses,  Beard  of  Jove  (large  flowers 
with  magenta  petals  and  golden  calices),  forget-me- 
nots,  pinks,  and  carnations.  Everywhere  were  orange 
and  lemon  trees  in  full  bloom,  and  here  and  there  ap- 
peared pomegranate  blossoms  of  fiery  crimson.  Ivy 
draped  all  the  upper  walls,  and  flowering  wistaria 
reaching  from  the  branches  of  dead  trees  to  the  face 
of  the  cliff,  climbed  and  climbed  a  hundred  feet  to 
the  top.  On  each  side  wide-spreading  bougainvillea, 
a  mass  of  pink  and  peach-color,  hung  in  garlands  and 
wreaths,  so  that  when  we  stood  at  the  base  of  the  cliff 
and  looked  upward  it  seemed  as  if  we  beheld  a  cata- 
ract of  flowers,  a  Niagara  of  blossoms. 

Over  the  opening  to  the  Bath  of  Venus  was  this 
inscription : 

"  Come  1'  antica  tradizione  rimembra 
Qui  Venere  bagno  le  belle  membra." 

In  the  midst  of  La  Latomia  is  a  plantation  of  roses; 
to  describe  it  as  a  bed  of  roses  would  give  no  idea  of 
its  size  and  tangled  luxuriance,  nor  of  the  varieties  of 
plants  of  which  it  was  composed.  There  were  in  full 
bloom  certainly  thirty  or  forty  specimens  of  wild  and 
cultivated  roses  —  white,  pink,  yellow,  and  crimson  — 


NEAPOLIS  317 

sweetbrier,  delicate  tea  and  moss  roses,  many  standard 
and  dwarf  varieties;  and  in  the  centre  an  old  olive- 
tree  covered  by  climbing  white  roses  produced  the 
effect  of  a  fountain  of  flowers.  The  gardener  who 
accompanied  us  cut  for  us  not  a  few  choice  buds,  not 
a  handful  of  roses,  but  literally  a  double  armful,  with 
long  stems,  each  containing  twenty  or  thirty  buds  and 
flowers.  These  he  gave  to  la  signora,  notwithstanding 
the  fact  that  a  price  had  been  set  upon  his  wares  by 
the  noble  owner  of  the  grounds,  as  we  knew  from 
reading  the  following  inscription  displayed  on  an  or- 
namental sign-board : 

"  Quella  rosa,  O  gentil  visitatrice, 
Onde  sospiri,  a  te  toccar  non  lice. 
Per  un  bacio  il  padrone  ama  cambriarla. 
Questo  e  il  suo  prezzo,  di  se  vuoi  comprarla." 

Which  may  be  freely  translated  as  follows : 

"This  rose,  O  gentle  visitress,  for  which  you  sigh 
You  must  not  touch ; 
Its  price  ?     One  kiss  (if  you  will  buy), 
Paid  to  its  owner.     Will  you  give  so  much?" 

To  the  eastward  of  the  stone  quarries,  within  the 
limits  of  ancient  Neapolis,  are  the  ruins  of  the  Greek 
theatre  erected  in  the  fifth  century  B.C.,  the  third 
largest  structure  of  its  kind,  those  of  Miletus  and  Me- 
galopolis only  exceeding  it  in  dimensions.  The  audi- 
torium, about  five  hundred  feet  in  diameter,  contained 
seats  in  sixty  -  one  tiers  for  the  accommodation  of 
twenty-four  thousand  auditors.  Forty-six  of  the  tiers 
are  still  visible,  but  the  other  fifteen,  which  were  built 
above  the  solid  rock  out  of  which  the  lower  tiers  were 


318  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

carved,  have  disappeared.  The  sedilia  were  arranged 
in  nine  cunei,  intersected  by  a  broad  and  a  narrow 
"  praecinctio,"  on  the  cornice  of  which  are  still  to  be 
read  various  Greek  inscriptions,  recording  the  names 
of  the  Olympian  Jupiter,  of  King  Hieron,  Basilissas 
Philistides,  Basilissas  Nereides,  etc.  The  auditorium 
is  semicircular  in  shape,  is  cut  into  the  face  of  the 
natural  rock  cliffs,  and  opens  to  the  south,  disclosing, 
now  that  the  scena  has  disappeared,  a  wonderful  view 
of  the  Great  Harbor,  the  city  on  Ortygia,  and  the 
promontory  of  Plemmyrium. 

While  the  date  of  the  construction  of  the  theatre 
is  not  certainly  known,  it  is  more  than  likely  that  it 
was  completed,  if  not  begun,  by  Gelon.  Gelon  was 
succeeded  by  his  brother  Hieron  in  the  government 
of  Syracuse,  and  the  latter,  the  munificent  patron  of 
art  and  literature,  invited  Simonides,  Bacchylides, 
Epicharmus,  and  ./Eschylus  to  reside  at  his  court. 
Pindar  also  visited  Hieron,  and  there  can  be  but  little 
doubt  that  from  the  stage  of  the  new  theatre  the 
poets  recited  their  odes  and  hymns.  It  is  not  im- 
probable that  ^Eschylus  gave  on  this  same  stage 
representations  of  his  tragedies  for  the  delectation  of 
Hieron  and  the  Syracusans.  But  of  all  grand  specta- 
cles, of  all  gala  days,  that  celebration  was  grandest,  and 
that  day  most  notable,  when  Syracuse,  freed  by  the 
great  endeavors  of  Timoleon,  held  high  festival  in  his 
honor.  We  can  imagine  the  theatre  packed  from 
chorus  to  the  loftiest  row  of  sedilia,  until  not  a  foot 
of  standing-room  was  left  unoccupied  ;  the  stage  is  set 
for  a  representation  of  a  tragedy  of  ^Eschylus ;  but 
the  thoughts  of  the  Syracusans  are  not  busy  with  the 
preparations  for  the  enactment  of  a  drama ;  their  eyes 


NEAPOLIS  319 

wander  from  the  scena,  they  evidently  expect  some 
grand  personage.  At  last,  blind  old  Timoleon  is  led 
into  the  auditorium — Timoleon,  the  saviour  of  the  city, 
the  father  of  the  people,  the  first  and  best -beloved 
citizen  of  the  state,  the  man  worthiest  of  fame,  who 
thought  it  enough  to  deliver  others,  and  who  sought 
nothing  for  himself.  Having  been  invited  by  "  all 
Syracuse  "  to  be  present,  he  has  been  conveyed  in 
a  carriage  from  his  country-seat  to  the  theatre,  fol- 
lowed by  a  dancing,  singing,  shouting  multitude  of 
people,  who  paid  heroic  honors  to  "The  Deliverer." 
We  can  imagine  the  enthusiasm  of  the  audience  as 
thousands  upon  thousands  of  free  citizens  leap  to 
their  feet  to  shout  a  tremendous,  delirious  welcome 
to  the  blind  old  man  who  is  led  to  the  seat  of  honor. 
And  surely  no  people  ever  welcomed  a  grander  old 
man  than  he,  who,  "  like  Caesar,  could  say  '  Veni, 
vidi,  vici,'  and  who  could  further  add  '  vixi.  '  "  Timo- 
leon, the  most  powerful  man  of  his  time,  who,  when 
he  had  restored  his  adopted  country  to  freedom  and 
prosperity,  knew  how  to  put  away  from  him  the 
temptation  of  absolute  rule,  preferring  to  dwell  as  a 
simple  citizen  among  the  people  he  had  saved,  pass- 
ing his  honored  old  age  on  his  well-tilled  farm,  be- 
loved, revered  by  all  his  countrymen. 


XXXVI 
EPIPOLiE  AND  THE  ANAPO 

Castle  of  Euryalos — Athenian  Siege  of  Syracuse— Capture  of 
the  City  by  Marcellus — Up  the  Anapo — Papyrus — Foun- 
tain of  Cyane— Modern  Naiads. 

It  is  an  interesting  journey  and  a  long  one  from 
the  Castle  of  Maniaces,  at  the  southern  extremity  of 
Ortygia,  to  Fort  Euryalos,  from  one  end  of  ancient 
Syracuse  to  the  other,  a  distance  of  more  than  four 
miles  by  the  footpath  along  the  southern  edge  of 
Epipolae,  or  more  than  five  and  a  half  miles  by  the 
carriage  road  which  winds  along  at  the  base  of  the 
cliffs  that  rise  above  the  valley  of  the  Anapo. 

Fort  Euryalos  stands  at  the  western  extremity  of 
Epipolae,  at  an  angle  of  the  walls  of  Dionysius  I.,  who 
employed  sixty  thousand  men  and  six  thousand  teams 
of  oxen  for  two  months  in  building  the  wonderful  line 
of  fortifications  with  which  he  surrounded  the  five  cit- 
ies. It  is  true  that  before  the  days  of  Dionysius  there 
was  a  fort  on  Epipolae;  the  Athenians  under  Nicias 
occupied  it  when  they  first  landed  on  Thapsus,  but 
Dionysius  greatly  enlarged  and  strengthened  it,  exca- 
vating numerous  passages,  all  of  which  communicated 
with  a  great,  central,  open  court,  where  the  garrison 
could  resort  when  driven  from  the  outworks.  There 
are  also  countless  galleries  hewn  in  the  solid  rock, 


EPIPOLAE   AND   THE  ANAPO  32 1 

through  which  the  soldiers  found  their  way  to  outly- 
ing towers  and  parapets,  and  there  are  still  to  be  seen 
stations  where  catapults  and  other  engines  of  offensive 
and  defensive  warfare  were  mounted  on  the  walls. 
The  fortress  is  surrounded  by  a  dry  moat  or  fosse, 
from  which  diverge  many  interconnected,  subterranean 
passages,  which  were  used  as  exits  for  infantry  and 
cavalry  to  the  plain  of  Thapsus. 

When  the  army  commanded  by  Nicias  began  the 
investment  of  Syracuse,  Euryalos  was  an  isolated  fort ; 
having  taken  it  by  surprise,  the  Athenians  intrenched 
themselves  securely  within  it,  before  undertaking  the 
construction  of  that  part  of  the  military  wall  which 
extended  from  the  Great  Harbor  to  the  heights  of 
Epipolae.  where  they  built  an  outpost  known  as  "  The 
Circle."  The  Syracusans  did  not  vigorously  oppose  the 
erection  of  the  Athenian  wall  from  the  Great  Harbor 
to  the  Circle ;  but,  after  the  arrival  of  Gylippus,  when 
Nicias  began  to  build  from  the  Circle  down  to  the 
Bay  of  Trogilus,  the  Spartan  commander  prevented 
him,  by  building  outward  from  Acradina  a  counter- 
wall,  which,  extending  along  the  ridge  of  Epipolae, 
intersected  the  proposed  line  of  the  Athenian  wall, 
and  continued  onward  in  the  direction  of  Fort  Eury- 
alos. Traces  of  the  wall  and  counter -wall  are  dis- 
coverable in  various  places,  and  there  are  extensive 
remains  of  the  walls  of  Dionysius  divergent  from 
Euryalos  and  cresting  the  cliffs  of  Epipolae.  Of  won- 
derful extent  were  the  fortifications  erected  from 
time  to  time  by  different  builders  on  the  triangular 
plateau  of  Epipolae,  and  the  ruins  of  them  confirm  all 
statements  that  have  been  made  concerning  their 
solidity  and  strength. 


322  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

When  Marcellus  besieged  the  city  he  was  held  at 
bay  for  nearly  three  years  by  the  machinations  of 
Archimedes  and  the  desperate  courage  of  the  Syra- 
cusans ;  but  Marcellus  was  a  persistent  man  and  he 
waited  patiently  for  the  opportunity  which  presently 
came  to  him.  During  the  celebration  of  a  three  days' 
feast  of  Diana,  the  great  goddess  of  the  Syracusans, . 
the  people  of  the  pentapolis,  thinking  themselves 
secure  within  their  mighty  walls,  gave  themselves 
over,  after  the  manner  of  Belshazzar  and  the  Baby- 
lonians, to  revelry  and  drunkenness.  The  Romans 
did  not  seem  to  be  pressing  the  siege ;  the  engines  of 
Archimedes  were  idle.  This  was  Marcellus's  oppor- 
tunity. The  Roman  soldiers,  having  found  a  weak 
spot  in  the  defence,  scaled  the  wall  and  slaughtered 
the  drunken  guards  where  they  slept.  Then  Roman 
trumpets  sounded  the  charge,  and  the  warriors  of 
Marcellus,  rushing  in,  took  possession  of  the  whole 
open  ground  of  Epipolae. 

The  story  runs  that  when  the  Roman  general  en- 
tered Syracuse  in  triumph,  he  sent  for  Archimedes, 
who  was  engaged  in  the  solution  of  a  mathematical 
problem.  The  sage  asked  to  be  allowed  to  finish  his 
work  before  obeying  the  command  of  the  Roman  gen- 
eral. A  soldier,  misunderstanding  his  words,  drew  his 
sword  and  killed  him.  So  perished  mathematicorum 
princeps  —  supremum  Sicilice  ornamentum  ;  so  passed 
also  the  glory  of  ancient  Syracuse,  which  had  been 
for  centuries  an  independent,  a  ruling  city,  the  great- 
est city  of  Sicily  and  Europe.  The  sceptre  departed 
from  her,  and  for  more  than  a  thousand  years  the 
"City  of  Cities"  remained  a  provincial  town  under 
the  dominion  of  mighty  Rome. 


epipoljE  and  the  anapo  323 

There  is  a  wonderful  view  from  the  Castle  of  Eury- 
alos.  From  its  ruined  battlements  the  traveller  may 
study  to  advantage  the  topography  of  Syracuse  and 
the  surrounding  country.  To  the  east  the  foreground 
is  occupied  by  the  barren,  ruin-heaped  table-land  of 
Epipolae,  the  entire  surface  of  which  has  been  cut  and 
carved,  stripped  of  the  square  blocks  used  in  building 
the  walls  and  fortifications  of  the  five  cities.  The 
serrated  lines  of  cliffs  diverging  from  Euryalos  to  the 
east  and  southeast  form  a  right  -  angle  triangle,  of 
which  the  cliffs  of  Acradina  are  the  base.  On  the 
northeastern  corner  of  the  plateau  adjoining  Acradina 
are  the  ruins  of  Tyche,  and  on  the  southwestern  cor- 
ner (also  adjoining  Acradina)  are  the  remains  of  Ne- 
apolis.  Beyond  the  cliffs  of  Acradina  extends  the 
blue  expanse  of  the  Ionian  Sea.  Sixty-five  miles  in 
the  north,  across  the  Bay  of  Thapsus,  beyond  the 
promontory  of  San  Croce  and  the  Bay  of  Catania, 
^Etna  uplifts  its  pyramid,  and  to  the  right  of  the 
Mountain  of  Mountains  the  coast  of  Sicily  extends 
northeastwardly  along  the  Strait  of  Messina  in  a  suc- 
cession of  promontories,  the  nearest  of  which,  Mount 
Taurus,  shows  in  front  of  the  dim  outline  of  hills  that 
look  down  upon  Scylla  and  Charybdis.  In  the  north- 
east, across  the  Ionian  Sea,  stand  the  front  ranks  of 
the  Aspromonte  Mountains,  and  behind  them,  at  the 
verge  of  vision,  showing  faintly  like  the  shadow  of 
clouds,  there  are  suggestions  of  the  sky-line  of  the 
Apennines  of  Calabria.  To  the  west,  beyond  the 
Valley  of  Anapo,  rise  the  hills  about  Floridia  and 
the  foot-hills  of  the  Sierras  of  Erei,  which  extend  to 
Enna,  in  the  heart  of  Sicily.  Down  in  the  valley  of  the 
Anapo,  on  the  shore  of  the  Great  Harbor,  the  site  of 


324  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

the  Athenian  camp  is  discoverable,  and  the  eye  rang- 
ing over  the  round  expanse  of  water  rests  on  Ortygia 
and  explores  the  shore  of  the  promontory  of  Plemmy- 
rium  beyond.  On  the  southwest  rise  the  hills  whence 
flows  the  River  Asinarus,  on  the  banks  of  which  Nicias 
and  his  seven  thousand  laid  down  their  arms ;  and  far 
beyond  these  in  blue  silhouette  appears  the  misty 
outline  of  Cape  Passaro,  lifting  its  broad  head  and 
flanks  above  the  purple  African  Sea.  The  whole  east- 
ern coast  of  Sicily  from  Charybdis,  over  against  Scylla, 
to  Pachynus — a  distance  of  one  hundred  and  ten  miles 
— is  in  full  view  from  our  outlook  on  the  ruins  of 
Euryalos,  and  sight  and  imagination  never  weary  of 
the  contemplation  of  so  magnificent  a  panorama. 

One  delicious  morning  we  took  passage  in  a  barca 
navigated  by  four  rowers  and  a  steersman,  crossed  the 
Great  Harbor,  passing  close  by  the  site  of  the  Athe- 
nian camp,  now  a  marshy,  reed  -  grown  expanse  of 
shore,  and,  avoiding  with  difficulty  the  sand-pits  and 
shallow  waters  at  its  mouth,  entered  the  River  Anapo, 
to  begin  our  explorations  of  the  most  celebrated  of 
Sicilian  streams. 

The  Anapo  rises  in  the  Eraian  Mountains,  and,  after 
flowing  for  twenty -five  miles,  at  first  through  pictu- 
resque ravines,  then  across  the  plain  to  which  it  gives 
its  name,  empties  into  the  Great  Harbor  of  Syracuse. 
We  experienced  great  difficulty  in  ascending  the 
stream,  owing  to  the  narrowness  and  shallowness  of 
its  bed,  but  the  February  rains  had  raised  the  water 
in  the  channel,  and  we  were  able  to  pole  our  barca  to 
Ponte  Grande,  where  the  road  to  Noto  crosses  the 
Anapo.  Passing  under  this  modern  structure,  we  pro- 
ceeded for  half  a  mile,  and  came  to  the  remains  of  an 


EPIPOL.E   AND   THE   ANAPO  325 

ancient  bridge,  where  the  stream  is  crossed  by  La 
Via  Helorina.  Here  the  Athenians,  in  their  first  skir- 
mish with  the  soldiers  of  Gylippus,  drove  back  their 
enemies,  and,  fording  the  river,  continued  their  retreat 
to  the  hills  of  Floridia.  At  this  point  we  left  our 
boat,  and  after  a  walk  often  minutes  ascended  a  knoll 
fifty  or  sixty  feet  above  the  sea,  on  which  we  found 
the  ruins  of  the  Temple  of  the  Olympian  Jupiter.  Of 
this  grand  edifice — first  mentioned  in  history  in  493 
B.C.,  when  Hippocrates,  the  tyrant  of  Gela,  pitched  his 
camp  near  it  when  he  came  to  besiege  Syracuse — but 
little  remains.  Two  badly  mutilated,  broken  columns 
are  all  the  relics  of  the  shrine  which  Gelon  enriched 
with  a  mantle  of  gold  captured  from  the  Carthagin- 
ians at  Himera.  This  same  mantle  was  worn  by  the 
god  whose  statue  Cicero  describes  as  one  of  the  three 
most  beautiful  in  the  world.  Dionysius  robbed  the 
Olympian  Jupiter  of  his  cloak,  saying  that  as  it  was 
"  too  cold  for  winter  and  too  heavy  for  summer  use, 
the  god  would  be  more  comfortable  during  both  sea- 
sons in  a  cloak  of  wool." 

We  remained  long,  haunting  the  old  ruins,  wonder- 
ing at  the  utter  desolation  of  the  plain,  so  often  the 
camping- ground  of  armies,  admiring  the  charming 
view  of  distant  Syracuse,  the  living  town  on  Ortygia, 
and  the  four  dead  cities  on  the  heights.  Returning 
to  our  boat,  we  resumed  our  explorations,  following 
the  winding  channel  through  the  Palude  Pantano 
(Palus  Lysimaleia),  the  pestilential  malaria  of  which 
has  destroyed  multitudes  of  warriors  who,  in  times 
past,  besieged  Syracuse.  A  mile  from  the  mouth  of 
"the  great  stream,"  as  Theocritus  calls  the  water- 
course that  to-day  deserves  no  grander  name  than 


326  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

brook,  we  came  to  where  the  clear  waters  of  Cyane 
mingle  with  the  tawny  floods  of  the  Anapo,  and, 
leaving  the  latter,  ascended  the  former  stream,  now 
known  as  Fiume  Pisma.  The  Cyane  is  a  wayward  water- 
course, which  wanders  to  and  fro,  lingering  long  amid 
meadows  and  orchards.  Its  banks  are  beautified  by 
masses  of  papyrus,  "  the  plant  of  the  Nile,"  which  only 
along  the  margin  of  this  stream  and  by  the  fountain 
of  Arethusa  in  Ortygia  is  still  to  be  found  anywhere  in 
Europe  growing  in  its  natural  beauty. 

We  advanced  but  slowly  because  of  the  sudden  turns 
and  wanderings  of  the  river,  and  our  progress  was  im- 
peded by  masses  of  floating  ranunculuses  and  water- 
cresses,  which  choked  the  channel.  Nevertheless, 
rowing,  poling,  sometimes  towing  the  boat,  as  they 
waded  the  shallow  places,  our  boatmen  won  their 
way  up-stream,  and,  where  the  tangle  of  papyrus  ren- 
dered it  impossible  to  use  a  tow-line,  boatmen  and  pas- 
sengers, grasping  the  tough  reeds,  slowly  but  surely  ad- 
vanced against  the  current.  Behind  the  papyrus  which 
overhangs  the  bank  are  dense  plantations  of  cane, 
reeds,  and  flags,  alternating  with  open  meadow-lands, 
on  the  margin  of  which  red  Sicilian  cattle  stood  knee- 
deep  in  water  to  gaze  curiously  at  us  as  we  passed. 
And  where  the  land  had  been  drained  are  wheat-fields, 
vineyards,  orchards,  and  groves  of  ancient  olive-trees, 
planted  in  the  days  of  the  Saracens. 

The  banks  of  the  Cyane  are  most  picturesque  and 
finely  colored  ;  the  green  papyrus  stalks,  crowned  with 
golden  tassels,  show  against  a  background  of  yellow 
cane.  Almond-trees  fill  the  air  with  the  sweetness  of 
their  blossoms,  and  the  green  turf  is  covered  with  a 
snow    of   petals.     Everywhere    there   are   flowers,  es- 


EPIPOL.E  AND   THE  ANAPO  327 

pecially  such  as  flourish  by  sweet  waters  and  love  the 
borders  of  clear,  flowing  streams.  The  waves  of  the 
Cyane  are  wonderfully  clear  and  transparent,  so  pellu- 
cid that  when  we  looked  down  into  them  it  was  impos- 
sible to  guess  the  depth  of  the  stream,  which  seemed 
to  possess  the  mysterious  power  of  magnifying  all  ob- 
jects immersed  in  it ;  the  deepest  pools,  reflecting  heav- 
en, shone  with  the  blue  of  the  Alpine  gentian.  The 
great  charm  of  the  river,  however,  is  the  papyrus,  the 
sight  of  which  carried  our  thoughts  back  to  the  days 
of  King  Hieron  II.,  "  the  ally  of  Rome,  the  friend  of 
the  Egyptian  Ptolemies,"  who,  to  please  his  dearly 
beloved  wife,  Philistis  (whose  beautiful  profile  is  to 
be  seen  on  old  coins  of  Syracuse),  brought  the  parent 
plants  from  the  River  Nile,  or,  as  it  is  not  improbable, 
received  them  as  a  gift  from  one  of  the  Ptolemies  to 
embellish  a  garden  for  his  queen  on  the  banks  of  the 
Cyane. 

There  is  no  vestige  of  the  bowers  and  ornaments  of 
the  garden  of  Philistis ;  four  of  the  five  cities  of  Syra- 
cuse lie  in  ruin  ;  the  ruins  themselves  have  perished  ; 
the  gods  have  forsaken  the  temples  where  Hieron  and 
his  queen  worshipped,  but  the  Cyane  still  flows  onward 
to  the  sea,  and,  uplifted  in  the  morning  light,  reflected 
in  the  blue  depths  of  the  stream,  we  beheld  the 
Egyptian  plant,  the  gift  of  a  Ptolemy  to  a  Greek  king, 
flourishing  as  in  the  beginning  of  history,  when  it  grew 
on  the  banks  of  the  ancient  Nile.* 

When  our  passage  was  barred  by  the  densest 
growths  we  had  yet  beheld,  we  forced  our  boat  on- 

*  There  is  no  papyrus  of  natural  growth  to  be  found,  today,  in  Egypt. 
The  plants  to  be  seen  growing  in  the  fountains  of  Cairo  were  trans- 
planted from  the  Botanical  Gardens  of  Amsterdam,  in  Holland. 


328  PICTURESQUE  SICILY 

ward  beneath  bending  masses  of  papyrus  that  touched 
crowns  across  the  stream,  and  found  ourselves  floating 
on  a  beautiful  circular  fountain,  named  in  honor  of  the 
nymph  who,  under  the  form  of  a  lovely  maiden,  was 
wooed  and  wedded  by  the  river -god  Anapus.  We 
seemed  to  float  in  the  air ;  the  pool  was  so  wonder- 
fully transparent  we  could  behold  fish  swimming  in 
its  depths,  and  pebbles  lying  at  its  bottom,  thirty  or 
forty  feet  below.  We  were  enchanted  by  the  loveli- 
ness of  La  Pisma,  "the  dark -blue  spring,  the  mirror 
of  Cyane,"  as  Ovid  tells  us,  of  all  Sicilian  nymphs 
most  beautiful,  who,  when  Pluto  was  carrying  off  Pros- 
erpine, attempted  to  arrest  the  flight  of  cruel  Dis,  and 
was  changed  by  him  into  a  fountain,  which  sprang 
from  an  opening  to  the  infernal  world.  In  ancient 
times  the  Syracusans  held  an  annual  festival  in  hon- 
or of  Persephone  on  the  banks  of  this  same  fountain, 
and  near  it  are  the  ruins  said  to  mark  the  place  where 
anciently  there  was  a  shrine  to  Cyane.  Cicero  tells 
us  that  in  this  pool  bulls  were  immersed  before  be- 
ing sacrificed  in  honor  of  Hercules,  who,  to  refresh 
himself,  bathed  in  the  clear  water  as  he  passed  by 
driving  the  herds  of  Geryones.  One  of  the  marvels 
of  the  fountain  is  the  deep  azure  of  its  waters ;  not 
even  in  the  grotto  of  Capri  are  the  waves  more  in- 
tensely blue. 

Suddenly  the  silence  of  the  place  was  broken  and 
our  privacy  invaded  by  a  crowd  of  shouting  boys, 
who,  all  unbidden,  disrobed  and  leaped  into  the  pool, 
where  they  disported  themselves,  diving  and  swim- 
ming for  long  distances  under  water.  When  they 
dived  to  the  bottom  of  the  pool  the  azure  water 
transformed   them,  so  that    they   resembled    figures 


EPIPOLiE  AND   THE   ANAPO  329 

carved  from  lapis  lazuli.  When  they  came  up  from 
the  depths  they  assured  us  that  they  were  "  dying  of 
hunger."  Two  dark-eyed  maids,  appearing  at  the  edge 
of  the  pool,  peeped  shyly  at  us,  and  then  disappeared 
behind  the  papyrus,  where  we  heard  them  laughing 
and  splashing  in  the  water.  Presently  we  beheld  them 
swimming  in  the  transparent  water  of  the  pool,  where 
they  were  in  their  element  and  as  much  at  home 
as  "  nixies "  or  very  youthful  naiads.  They  swam 
round  and  round  our  boat,  begging  for  soldi  and 
"qualche  cosa  per  mangiare " ;  were  most  importu- 
nate, were  not  to  be  denied,  nor  were  they  to  be 
warned  or  shamed  away.  Playing  naiad  cannot  be  an 
agreeable  pastime  in  the  month  of  February  even  in 
Sicily.  The  poor  nixies,  if  that  is  the  name  of  the 
little  people  who  preside  over  fountains  now  that  the 
naiads  have  departed  and  Pan  is  dead,  turned  blue 
with  cold.  Their  little  teeth  chattered,  and  when  it 
seemed  possible  that  they  might  drown  we  paid  into 
the  dripping,  benumbed  hand  of  each  of  them  what- 
ever it  may  have  been,  and  softly  entreated  them  to 
be  gone.  They  swam  to  the  margin  of  the  fountain 
and  disappeared  into  a  bower  of  tangled  papyrus. 
Truly,  if  we  had  not  indeed  beheld  Cyane,  we  could 
not  say  that  even  in  these  prosaic  modern  days,  naiads 
do  not  haunt  the  once  sacred  spring,  and  we  should 
not  have  marvelled  greatly  had  our  boatmen  told  us 
that  from  the  rocky  shores  of  Old  Plemmyrium,  which 
we  beheld  rising  in  the  south  across  the  Great  Har- 
bor, we  could 

"  Have  sight  of  Proteus  rising  from  the  sea, 
And  hear  old  Triton  blow  his  wreathed  horn." 


XXXVII 
THE  LAND   OF   THE  CYCLOPS 

Portus  Ulyssis — Polyphemus  the  Cyclops — "The  Columbus 
of  Sicily" — New  Naxos  —  Tauromenion  —  A  Portentous 
Sunset. 

THE  railway  from  Catania  to  Messina  extends 
along  the  Strait  of  Messina  close  to  the  water's 
edge.  Three  miles  to  the  northward  of  Catania  our 
train  skirted  the  shore  of  the  Bay  of  L'  Ognina, 
said  to  be  the  Portus  Ulyssis,  a  harbor,  according  to 
Virgil,  sheltered  from  all  the  winds  of  heaven,  afford- 
ing ample  anchorage  for  many  ships,  but  near  ./Etna, 
which  threatens  with  many  thunderings  at  any  mo- 
ment to  overwhelm  the  fleets  with  horrid  ruin.  On 
the  beach  of  this  land-locked  haven  ^neas  encoun- 
tered Archimenides,  the  miserable  sailor  abandoned 
to  his  fate  what  time  Ulysses  and  his  companions 
fled  from  the  wrath  of  Polyphemus.  On  the  heights 
overlooking  the  bay  was  the  cave  in  which  Ulysses 
and  his  companions  were  confined  by  the  Cyclops. 
By  the  shore  of  L'  Ognina,  long  before  the  coming 
of  Ulysses,  the  nymph  Galatea  was  wooed  and  won 
by  Acis,  the  shepherd  -  boy,  the  successful  rival  of 
Polyphemus.  The  latter  had  seen,  and  in  his  uncouth 
fashion  had  made  love  to,  the  fair  daughter  of  Nereus, 
and  having  surprised  Galatea  and  Acis  in  their  bower, 


THE  LAND   OF  THE    CYCLOPS  33 1 

the  monster  tore  great  rocks  from  the  side  of  ^Etna, 
and,  hurling  them,  crushed  and  killed  the  dainty  shep- 
herd. Galatea  was  inconsolable  for  the  loss  of  her 
lover,  and  her  heart-rending  grief  so  touched  the 
gods  that  they  took  pity  on  her  and  changed  the 
blood  of  Acis  into  a  limpid  stream,  thereafter  to  be 
called  by  his  name,  the  waters  of  which  anciently 
nourished  the  Catanian  fields.  For  this  reason,  in 
Katana  there  were  to  be  seen  temples  and  shrines 
of  Galatea,  who  was  no  less  honored  than  Ceres  her- 
self. The  fires  of  ^Etna  long  ago  drank  up  the  sacred 
river,  and  to-day  the  pleasant  land  where  the  nymph 
and  the  shepherd  wandered  hand  in  hand  is  hidden 
fathoms  deep  beneath  the  lava  flow  of  1380  A.D. 
Ulysses  avenged  the  murder  of  Acis  when  he  blinded 
Polyphemus  by  putting  out  the  Cyclops'  solitary  eye, 
preparatory  to  escaping  with  his  companions  from  the 
cavern  under  the  bellies  of  the  Cyclops'  sheep,  when, 
in  the  morning,  they  were  driven  afield. 

The  name  of  Acis  is  perpetuated  to-day  in  Aci  Cas- 
tello  and  Aci  Reale  ("  the  castle  and  land  of  Acis"). 
Aci  Castello,  seated  on  a  lofty  isolated  rock,  is  a  med- 
iaeval fortress,  of  which  a  deed  of  gift  was  made  in 
1296  by  the  Bishop  of  Catania  to  Ruggiero  di  Loria, 
Grand  Admiral  of  the  kingdom  of  Sicily  when  that 
sea-king  abandoned  the  cause  of  the  Aragonese  and 
lent  his  mighty  aid  to  the  Angevins.  This  act  of 
treachery  was  celebrated  as  a  great  and  glorious  deed 
by  the  chroniclers  of  the  bishop's  court,  but  later  his- 
torians have  labored  in  vain  to  save  the  name  of 
Loria  from  the  dishonor  that  tarnishes  the  fame  and 
blackens  the  name  of  a  traitor.  Between  Aci  Castello 
and  Punta  dei  Mulini  (anciently  called  Cape  Xiphonius) 


332  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

there  rises  from  the  sea  at  a  distance  of  a  few  hun- 
dred yards  from  shore  a  group  of  seven  small  islets, 
known  as  the  "  Faraglioni  della  Trezza  "  or  "  Scogli 
de'  Ciclopi " — Scopuli  Cyclopum.  Of  odd  shapes  and  of 
bizarre  formation  are  these  rocks,  which  the  blinded 
monster  hurled  at  the  ships  of  Ulysses  when  the  son 
of  Laertes,  newly  escaped  from  the  cavern  in  which 
the  Cyclops  "  dammed  up  his  flocks,"  was  piloting  his 
vessel  to  the  open  sea. 

"The  top  he  tore 
From  off  the  huge  rock,  and  so  right  a  throw 
Made  at  our  ship,  that  just  before  the  prow 
It  overflew  and  fell,  missed  mast  and  all 
Exceeding  little;  but  about  the  fall, 
So  fierce  a  wave  it  raised  that  back  it  bore 
Our  ship  so  far,  it  almost  touched  the  shore." 

Then,  when  Ulysses  taunted  Polyphemus  with  his 
blindness  and  impotency,  one  other  rock, 

"  In  size  more  amplified 
Than  first,  he  ravished  to  him,  and  implied, 
A  dismal  strength  in  it,  when,  whirl'd  about, 
He  sent  it  after  us." 

The  installation  of  two  of  the  seven  rocks  of  Cy- 
clops in  their  present  position  is  thus  accounted  for. 
Of  the  five  others  Homer  makes  no  mention.  All  of 
them,  like  the  crags  of  Aci  Castello,  are  composed  of 
basaltic  columns,  plutonic  crystallizations.  That  the 
huge  fragments  of  rock  were  thrown  from  ^Etna  by 
some  superhuman  force  there  seems  to  be  little  reason 
to  doubt.  Concerning  ^Etna,  its  fire  and  smoke,  its 
throes  and  convulsions,  Homer  maintains  unbroken 
silence ;  nevertheless,  he  must  be  a  very  prosaic  and 


THE   LAND   OF   THE   CYCLOPS  333 

sceptical  person  who  will  lightly  cast  doubt  upon  the 
story  of  Ulysses  and  Polyphemus  merely  for  the  sake 
of  establishing  a  more  or  less  probable  geological 
theory.  The  largest  of  the  Scogli  de'  Ciclopi,  pre- 
sumably that  one  which  Polyphemus  hurled  into  the 
sea  when  making  his  second  shot  at  the  "  dog-faced  " 
hero's  ship,  measures  two  hundred  and  twenty  feet  in 
height  and  more  than  two  thousand  feet  in  circumfer- 
ence. It  is  used  to-day  as  a  station  of  the  Hydrograph- 
ic  Institute  of  Italy,  and  whatever  may  be  the  truth 
concerning  its  original  installation,  its  present  exact 
situation  has  been  as  accurately  determined  by  almost 
indefinitely  repeated  geodetic  observations  as  that  of 
any  other  dot  upon  the  map  of  the  world. 

Beyond  Aci  Reale  the  town  of  Giarre  lies  upon  the 
slopes  of  ^Etna  high  above  the  sea,  and  the  country 
round  was  anciently  famed  for  its  chestnut-trees  of 
almost  unimaginable  height  and  girth.  The  mon- 
strous sequoiae  of  the  Yosemite  Valley,  the  gjant  eu- 
calypti of  Australia,  might  be  hidden  away  in  a 
grove  of  the  famous  "  castagni,"  under  the  branches 
of  one  of  which — "  II  Castagno  dei  Cento  Cavalli " — 
Giovanna  I.  of  Naples,  with  her  entire  suite,  found 
refuge  during  a  tempest.  Beyond  Giarre  the  Valley 
of  the  Alcantara  divides  ^Etna  from  the  Monti  Pelori- 
tani.  Near  the  mouth  of  the  Alcantara  (Arabic,  El- 
kan-tarali),  the  Acesino  of  the  Greeks,  on  the  curving 
neck  of  Capo  Schisto,  Theocles,  the  Columbus  of 
Sicily,  founded  in  the  eleventh  Olympiad  (735  B.C.) 
the  city  of  Naxos,  the  first  Greek  settlement  in  Sicily, 
one  year  before  the  arrival  of  Archias  at  Ortygia, 
where  he  built  the  city  afterwards  called  Syracuse. 
At  Naxos,  as  Thucydides  tells  us,  Theocles  built  an 


334  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

altar  to  Apollo  Archegetes  (the  Founder  and  Begin- 
ner), the  first  monument  of  Greek  civilization  erected 
in  Trinacria.  So  much  for  Thucydides,  but  Sicilian 
scholars  of  to-day  usually  find  warrant  for  asserting 
and  maintaining  that  when  Theocles  set  up  in  Naxos 
his  shrine  of  Apollo  the  Founder,  there  already  existed 
in  Sicily — had  existed,  in  fact,  for  more  than  one  or 
two  centuries  at  least — one  temple  at  Selinus,  temples 
of  Vulcan  and  Hercules  at  Acragas,  a  temple  of  Diana 
on  Ortygia,  and  a  temple  of  Ceres  at  Enna,  and  pro- 
bably many  more  in  other  parts  of  Sicily.  Certain 
Sicilian  archaeologists  resent  the  statements  of  Greek 
historians  to  the  effect  that  when  Theocles  arrived  in 
Trinacria  he  found  a  race  of  barbarian  troglodytes. 
Signor  Chiesi,  who  has  written  by  far  the  best  descrip- 
tive work  on  Sicily,  laughs  to  scorn  the  assertion  of 
the  German  Schneegans  that  the  ancient  Siculi,  shut 
up  in  their  island,  removed  from  contact  with  the  civ- 
ilized world,  were  savages  of  the  Stone  Age,  whereas 
the  Greeks,  the  Phoenicians,  and  the  Egyptians  were 
in  every  sense  of  the  word  highly  civilized  peoples. 
Signor  Chiesi  agrees  with  Herr  Schneegans  so  far  as 
the  Phoenicians  and  the  Egyptians  are  concerned,  but 
as  for  the  Greeks,  never  and  again  never  ("mai  e  poi 
mai ").  Were  there  not  countless  temples  in  Trin- 
acria, he  asks,  centuries  before  Theocles  landed  with 
his  fellow -pirates  upon  the  shore  near  the  city  that 
probably  was  possessed  of  temples  and  shrines  ages 
before  one  stone  of  Athens  was  laid  upon  another? 

We  shall  not  follow  the  two  scholars  into  the  mazes 
of  their  argument.  The  question  seems  little  likely 
to  be  settled  definitely,  and  we  shall  probably  never 
know  for  certain  whether  there  was  a  man  called  The- 


THE   LAND   OF   THE   CYCLOPS  335 

ocles,  or  whether  he  founded  the  city,  or  captured  one 
ready  made  (whereof  its  Sicilian  name  stands  in  the 
shade),  and  called  it  after  his  adopted  country,  the 
island  of  Naxos.  But  who  can  assure  us  that  there 
ever  lived  such  a  man  as  Lud,  or  whether  he  actually 
founded  the  town  he  named  after  himself,  the  city  we 
of  to-day  call  London  ? 

Not  a  trace,  not  a  vestige  remains  of  Naxos.  Aban- 
doned shortly  after  its  foundation  by  Theocles  and 
his  followers,  the  city  fell  into  ruin,  Dionysius  de- 
stroyed it  utterly,  and  the  Naxians  disappeared  from 
history  and  ceased  to  be. 

A  mile  beyond  the  sand-dunes  which  cover  the  site 
of  the  city  of  Theocles  we  came  to  the  station  of 
Giardini-Taormina.  Giardini,  the  port  and  emporium 
of  Taormina,  lies  between  the  foot  of  Monte  Tauro 
and  the  bay  to  which  the  town  gives  its  name. 

In  i860  Garibaldi  and  his  One  Thousand,  their 
Sicilian  campaign  gloriously  ended,  embarked  from 
this  little  seaport  to  win  new  triumphs  at  Reggio,  at 
Naples,  and  at  Volturno.  It  is  a  happy  dramatic  co- 
incidence that  from  the  town  whence  Garibaldi  sailed 
on  his  expedition  for  the  liberation  of  Italy,  there, 
more  than  twenty-five  centuries  earlier,  Timoleon  set 
foot  on  shore  when  he  arrived  in  Sicily  for  the  pur- 
pose of  freeing  the  people  from  the  yoke  of  their  ty- 
rants. At  that  little  town,  snuggling  under  the  cliffs 
of  Monte  Tauro,  close  by  the  sea,  the  paths  of  these 
two  heroes  crossed — two  men  so  strikingly  alike  in 
heart  and  soul,  in  honest  purpose,  in  courage,  and  in 
truthfulness ;  two  soldiers  who,  inspired  by  the  same 
lofty  ambitions,  had  devoted  their  transcendent  abili- 
ties to  the  cause  of  Sicilian  freedom — Timoleon,  "  the 


336  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

Deliverer";  Garibaldi, "the  Liberator";  the  two  grand- 
est names  in  the  Sicilian  annals  of  thirty  centuries. 

Nearly  four  hundred  feet  above  the  sea  the  ancient 
town  of  Taormina  occupies  a  narrow  platform  be- 
tween a  precipice  and  the  cliffs  of  a  giant  rock  on  the 
top  of  which  are  to  be  seen  the  ruins  of  a  Saracenic- 
Norman  castle.  Looking  up  from  Giardini,  Taormina 
seems  to  be  but  one  long  street,  a  row  of  houses  totter- 
ing on  the  verge  of  perpendicular  cliffs,  with  their  backs 
to  Monte  Tauro.  This  street  follows  the  irregular 
outline  of  the  face  of  the  crags,  winding  for  more  than 
a  mile  from  the  Greek  theatre  to  the  picturesque 
ruined  tower  of  the  Palazzo  Giampoli.  The  road  from 
Giardini  to  Taormina  ascends  the  steeps  of  a  beetling 
promontory,  making  many  bends  and  zigzags,  crossing 
and  recrossing  the  seaward  face  of  the  rock.  From 
every  turn  of  the  road  grand  views  are  to  be  obtained 
of  the  Strait  of  Messina,  north  towards  Scylla  and 
Charybdis,  south  past  the  rocks  of  the  Cyclops,  and 
for  miles  and  miles  onward  to  Syracuse  and  Cape 
Pachynus  —  a  panorama  of  the  whole  length  of  the 
eastern  coast  of  Sicily.  Across  the  strait  the  As- 
promonte  mountains  lift  their  superb  outlines  in  the 
east. 

We  had  reached  Giardini  in  the  afternoon  shortly 
before  sunset,  and  as  we  journeyed  up  to  Taormina 
we  beheld  a  series  of  marvellous  pictures  that  do  not 
fade  from  memory.  When  we  had  almost  gained  the 
summit,  having  ridden  for  some  minutes  with  our 
backs  to  the  setting  sun,  we  turned  sharply  to  the 
west,  where  the  road  doubled  an  elbow  on  the  steep 
face  of  the  hill.  The  spectacle  presented  to  our  as- 
tonished gaze  set  our  hearts  beating.     There  was  re- 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  CYCLOPS         337 

vealed  so  magnificent  a  vision  of  earth,  sea,  and  sky 
that  one  almost  feared  to  look  upon  it.  Thirty  miles 
away  the  snow-crowned  summit  of  ^Etna  uplifted  it- 
self immeasurably  towards  heaven.  The  contour  of  the 
mountains  was  limned  against  the  sky  as  if  etched  in 
radiant  gold.  Below  this  shining  outline  the  vast  bulk 
of  the  pyramid  showed  in  violet,  deepening  down- 
ward to  royal  purple.  Hitherward  the  valley  of  the 
Alcantara  lay  beneath  a  dense,  deep  shadow  as  black 
as  velvet,  and  yet,  like  velvet,  reflecting  a  faint,  mys- 
terious sheen  of  light.  High  above  ^Etna  the  heavens 
were  as  blue  as  sapphire,  but  in  the  far  west  transpar- 
ently golden.  The  crests  of  the  mountains  and  the 
tops  of  the  hills  confronting  ^Etna  and  facing  the  set- 
ting sun  caught  and  held  wonderful  hues  of  orange, 
pink,  and  rose -colored  light,  the  glories  of  the  dying 
day.  Far  to  the  south,  even  to  the  limits  of  sight,  the 
sea  lay  in  mysterious  amethystine  shadows — "the  pur- 
ple sea  "  of  Homer  and  the  ancient  poets ;  the  sun,  ap- 
parently, unimaginably  increased  in  size  by  compari- 
son with  the  bulk  of  earthly  things,  was  setting;  the 
great  golden  orb  dropped  imperceptibly  until  its 
lower  limb  seemed  almost  to  touch  the  rounded  sum- 
mit of  the  cone  of  JEtna..  For  a  moment  it  floated 
just  above,  then  stood  round  and  fair,  seemingly  bal- 
anced upon  the  apex  of  the  wonderful  pyramid  ; 
slowly  the  shining  globe  sank  behind  the  dome,  and 
impenetrable  shadow  rushed  down  the  steeps  and  hid 
the  hither  world  in  the  blackness  of  night.  Now  we 
could  see  with  distinctness  a  plume  of  smoke  drifting 
on  the  wind  from  the  mouth  of  the  crater,  glowing 
brilliant,  fiery  red,  as  if  lighted  by  the  glare  of  volcanic 
flames.     A  light  mist  driven  by  the  west  wind  rolled 


338  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

up  from  the  farther  side  of  the  mountain  and,  curling 
in  fantastic  wreaths,  crested  the  sky-line  of  the  summit. 
Like  the  plume  of  smoke,  these  mists  seemed  to  catch 
the  reflections  of  a  stupendous  conflagration,  and  the 
beholder  might  well  imagine  that  the  volcano  was  in 
active  eruption,  that  all  its  far  side  was  a  mass  of  boil- 
ing, seething  lava,  emitting  blood-red  flames.  It  was, 
indeed,  a  stupendous  spectacle ;  the  contadini  in  the 
vineyards  paused  in  their  work ;  and  women,  leaving 
their  dwellings,  came  into  the  open  to  gaze  in  awe  at 
the  phenomenon  as  they  told  their  beads  ;  men  crossed 
themselves,  and  a  group  of  children  near  the  place 
where  we  passed  ceased  playing  and  ran  to  their  homes 
as  if  to  seek  refuge  from  the  terror  that  was  in  the 
sky.  Intense,  unbroken  silence  held  all  the  air  and 
added  to  the  mystery  of  the  visitation,  and  it  was  a 
blessed  relief  to  the  strained  senses  when  a  church  bell 
began  tolling  for  vespers.  The  portent  lasted  but  a 
few  moments,  and  as  the  mimic  fires  of  ^Etna  and  the 
conflagration  of  the  heavens  began  to  pale,  we  passed 
beneath  the  arch  of  an  ancient  gateway  and  entered 
the  town  of  Taormina. 


XXXVIII 

TAORMINA 

Snow-flakes  and  Almond  Blossoms  —  Mola  —  Teatro  Greco— 
Isola  Bella — Castello  Alessio — ^Etna — Garibaldi  Modelled 
in  Snow. 

DURING  the  night  of  our  arrival  at  Taormina  it 
began  snowing,  and  stormed  incessantly  for  forty- 
eight  hours.  The  front  windows  of  our  apartment  in 
the  Hotel  Timeo  opened  to  the  south,  looking  towards 
JEtna,  but  view  there  was  none  save  of  drifting,  fall- 
ing veils  and  wreaths  of  white  that  filled  all  the  air. 
We  did  not  suffer  from  the  cold,  because,  in  addition 
to  the  blankets  on  our  beds,  we  made  use  of  our 
travelling-rugs,  and  under  these  we  slept  at  night,  or, 
wrapped  in  them,  sat  while  indoors  during  the  day. 
In  the  evening,  when  the  air  nipped  shrewdly  and  our 
wraps  hardly  sufficed  to  keep  us  warm,  the  cameriera, 
a  buxom,  jovial  lass  with  brilliant  large  eyes,  teeth  of 
wonderful  whiteness,  a  smile  as  sunny  as  mid-summer, 
and  a  most  comforting  laugh,  brought  into  our  cham- 
ber two  scaldaraji  (deep  copper  platters  containing 
a  few  handfuls  of  smouldering  charcoal).  These  she 
placed  between  our  feet,  and,  gathering  our  phylac- 
teries carefully  about  them,  made  us  as  snug  as  snug 
could  be.  Thus  swaddled,  we  sat  for  hours  like  chil- 
dren taking  a  make-believe  sleigh -ride  without  the 


340  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

accompaniment  of  bells  and  all  the  snow  falling  out- 
of-doors.  So  we  passed  the  evening  pleasantly  until 
bedtime,  and  then  forgot  in  happy  slumbers  the  storm 
that  raged  outside. 

As  it  began,  so  the  snow  ceased  to  fall,  in  the  night, 
and  when  the  sun  arose  on  the  morning  of  the  third 
day  a  brilliant,  sparkling  light  glorified  the  white  dome 
of  ./Etna  and  rendered  the  sea  and  shore  resplendent 
beyond  imagination.  With  intent  to  behold  the  grand 
prospect  to  be  had  from  the  hills  above  Taormina,  we 
were  early  abroad,  and,  taking  our  way  to  Mola,  fol- 
lowed a  narrow  bridle-path  which  led  us  through  al- 
mond orchards,  all  sweetly  blooming,  untouched  of 
frost,  although  the  blossoms  were  covered  with  snow. 
Up  the  mountain-side  we  climbed  over  a  paved  cause- 
way that  zigzagged  back  and  forth  across  the  side  of 
the  huge  rock  on  the  brow  of  which  sits  the  giant 
Castle  of  Mola.  Up  these  same  heights  Dionysius  of 
Syracuse  climbed  one  winter's  night,  B.C.  304,  to  capt- 
ure the  castle  preliminary  to  assaulting  the  town,  and 
down  this  same  steep  hill  -  side  he  rolled  when  the 
townspeople  drove  him  from  their  walls.  But  Diony- 
sius had  many  lives,  and,  fighting,  ran  away  to  live 
and  fight  another  day,  when  Mola  had  cause  to  rue 
the  hour  she  refused  his  first  advances. 

After  an  hour  of  steady  scrambling  over  the  rocky 
highway,  rendered  slippery  by  the  melting  snow,  we 
came  to  the  only  gate  of  Mola,  more  than  two  thou- 
sand feet  above  the  sea,  and,  entering  beneath  its  mas- 
sive archway,  found  ourselves  in  a  most  curious  med- 
iaeval piazza,  on  the  side  of  which  stands  a  large 
church  having  a  curious  portal  with  a  round  arch 
resting  on  pilasters  of  red  marble.     We  saw  a  Greek 


TAORMINA  341 

inscription  imbedded  in  the  masonry  and  tried,  but  in 
vain,  to  decipher  the  time-worn  words.  Opposite  the 
church  were  stone  settles,  with  their  backs  against  the 
parapet  of  a  semicircular  bastion,  the  face  of  which 
dropped  perpendicularly  to  the  foot  of  the  rock.  On 
these  seats,  basking  in  the  sunlight,  sat  a  company  of 
old  men,  who  kept  their  backs  to  the  morning  sun, 
warming  themselves.  Piteous  old  men  !  Shrivelled 
and  shrunken,  feeble,  decrepit,  world-worn  wrecks  of 
humanity  were  these  ancient  citizens  of  the  mountain 
town.  Their  eyes  blinked  painfully,  teased  by  the 
dazzling  snow  reflections,  their  numbed  hands  trem- 
bled as  they  grasped  their  staves  or  held  their  cappotti 
muffled  about  their  palsied  bodies.  Fully  fifty  of 
them  there  were,  all  doubled  and  crooked  by  the 
weight  of  years,  fifty  hopeless,  helpless  paupers,  "  sans 
teeth,  sans  eyes,  sans  taste,  sans — everything."  One 
could  readily  imagine  that  the  Fates  had  forgotten 
them,  leaving  them  in  their  hopelessness  to  drag  out 
in  bitter  torment  what  was  left  to  them  of  superflu- 
ous, miserable  life.  Around  these  human  "wrecks 
strayed  a  crowd  of  children,  silent,  inactive,  joyless, 
numbed  and  stiffened  by  the  unaccustomed  cold  of 
the  past  few  days  of  snow  and  storm.  Fancy  the 
wretchedness  of  the  old  and  feeble,  of  the  sick,  of 
the  children,  confined  for  days  in  comfortless  cabins, 
tomb -like,  fireless  rooms,  without  glass  in  the  win- 
dows, with  earthen  floors  and  stone  walls ;  fancy  the 
misery  of  all  these  helpless  ones  during  the  cruel,  cold, 
and  driving  fury  of  the  February  gale  that  scourged 
them  all  those  bitter  days  while  we,  well  clothed, 
muffled  in  our  wraps  and  blankets,  had  found  it  diffi- 
cult to  keep  warm  even  in  our  beds  in  the  well-built, 


342  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

well -furnished  Hotel  Timeo.  The  people  of  Mola 
crawled  about  like  benumbed  bees,  seeking  the  sun- 
niest nooks  where  they  might  warm  their  chilled  and 
sluggish  blood.  The  sufferings  they  had  endured  for 
three  days  had  been  too  intense  to  be  lightly  forgotten, 
and  the  dreary  folk  were  not  able  to  put  away  melan- 
choly thoughts,  to  smile,  to  enjoy  the  sweetness  of 
the  glorious  morning.  They  cowered  in  the  sunlight, 
a  ragged,  starved,  and  pinched  concourse  of  woe-be- 
gone  humanity.  Within  five  minutes  after  our  arrival 
in  the  town  we  were  surrounded  by  a  limping,  hob- 
bling, hungry  crowd  of  beggars,  who  so  beset  us,  ac- 
companying our  every  footstep,  that  we  shortened  our 
stay  in  Mola,  anxious  to  be  gone  from  a  scene  of  mis- 
ery and  distress.  We  visited  the  castle,  where  we  had 
hoped  to  enjoy  a  magnificent  prospect,  but  even  the 
grandest  panoramas  made  little  impression  upon  our 
minds ;  our  thoughts  were  filled  with  sad  imaginings, 
conjured  up  by  the  sight  of  the  host  of  miserable  fel- 
low-beings that  waited  for  us  at  the  castle  gate. 

Ah !  what  a  land  of  delight  would  Sicily  be  were 
it  not  for  the  multitude  of  unutterably  wretched  be- 
ings that  haunt  the  fairest  scenes  like  ghosts  from  the 
nether  world  visiting  the  glimpses  of  Paradise!  "  Sici- 
ly is  the  smile  of  God  "  ;  in  that  wonderland  all  nature 
is  magnificent,  lavish,  prodigal,  but  the  people  of  this 
earthly  paradise  suffer  the  agonies  of  Tantalus,  while 
Tisiphone,  with  her  fearful  sisters, 

"  Sits  on  the  threshold  day  and  night 
With  eyes  that  know  no  sleep." 

Descending  by  the  same  way  by  which  we  came,  in 
less  than  half  the  time  it  took  to  make  the  ascent,  we 


TAORMINA  343 

found  our  way  to  the  Greek  theatre  of  Taormina,  ex- 
cavated twenty-three  centuries  ago,  from  the  northern 
face  of  that  spur  of  Monte  Tauro  which  projects  bold- 
ly from  the  main  mountain. 

The  vast  semicircular  auditorium  of  step-like  scats 
opening  towards  the  south  upon  a  grand  and  en- 
chanting panorama  of  the  Ionian  Sea,  the  east  coast 
of  Sicily,  and  the  pyramid  of  ^Etna,  is  three  hundred 
and  thirty-six  feet  in  diameter  and  encloses  an  orches- 
tra one  hundred  and  thirty  feet  in  width.  The  whole 
interior  of  the  theatre  was  originally  veneered  with 
heavy  plates  of  marble,  many  of  which  were  stolen 
away  by  the  Dukes  of  Santo  Stefano  to  embellish 
their  palaces.  The  descendants  of  these  despoilers 
studiously  circulated  the  report  that  the  marble  had 
been  removed  by  Saracen  infidels  in  their  rage  for 
destroying  all  monuments  of  the  glorious  past ;  but 
the  Saracens,  in  this  instance,  were  the  dukes  them- 
selves, and  their  act  of  vandalism  recalls  the  pasquin- 
ade :  "  What  the  barbarians  left  the  Barberini  carried 
away."  The  Romans  enlarged  and  restored  the  old 
structure  that  had  fallen  into  ruin  and  retouched  the 
original  decorations,  but  their  work,  when  compared 
with  that  of  the  Greeks,  is  in  very  doubtful  taste. 
Where  the  latter  built  with  smooth,  chiselled  blocks 
of  stone  the  former  used  bricks,  which  gives  to  their 
additions  and  restorations  a  tawdry  and  vulgar  appear- 
ance. The  scena  is  the  most  important  part  of  the 
theatre  still  remaining.  Of  all  existing  Greek  stages 
that  of  Taormina  is  the  only  one,  except  the  stage  in 
the  theatre  in  Pamphylia,  that  retains  its  original  form, 
exhibiting  the  details  of  its  construction.  It  remains 
to-day  in  an  almost  perfect  state  of  preservation,  so 


344  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

far,  at  least,  as  its  ground-plan  is  concerned.  It  is  safe 
to  say  that  in  order  to  gain  an  adequate  idea  of  the 
construction  and  arrangement  of  an  ancient  Greek 
theatre,  one  has  but  to  visit  Syracuse,  Segesta,  and 
Taormina,  for  the  details  that  are  wanting  in  any  one 
of  the  three  structures  are  to  be  found  in  one  of  the 
other  two.  The  back  of  the  scena  presents  the  appear- 
ance of  a  grand  portico  with  enriched  columns,  and  in 
the  wall  are  niches  where  were  placed  the  statues  of 
gods  and  heroes.  The  actors  performed  in  front  of 
this  portico  on  a  proscenium  of  moderate  width  ex- 
tending forward  to  the  orchestra.  Two  lateral  and 
one  central  door  gave  entrance  from  a  corridor  that 
enclosed  the  stage,  and  to  the  right  and  left  were 
dressing  and  waiting  rooms  of  great  size,  with  lofty, 
arched  ceilings,  the  latter  testifying  to  their  Roman 
origin.  The  Romans  also  enclosed  the  Greek  auditor- 
ium with  two  grand  galleries,  thus  doubling  its  seat- 
ing capacity,  which  is  said  to  have  been  sufficient  to 
accommodate  forty  thousand  people.  The  inner  one 
of  the  two  galleries  was  supported  on  forty-five  col- 
umns, corresponding  to  as  many  pilasters  surmounting 
a  wainscoting  pierced  with  thirty-six  niches  for  the  re- 
ception of  statues.  From  the  inner  gallery  downward 
graduated  rows  of  seats  arranged  in  nine  cunei  and 
approached  by  ten  flights  of  steps  carved  in  the  rock 
extended  to  the  platea  behind  the  orchestra  and 
chorus.  The  two  upper  galleries  were  accessible  only 
by  stairs  leading  from  the  outside  of  the  enclosing 
semicircular  wall  of  the  theatre. 

The  superb  proportions,  the  massive  construction, 
the  architectural  beauty  of  the  Greek  portion  of  the 
edifice  awakened  admiration  for  the  artistic  and  poetic 


BADIA   VECCHIA.      TAORMINA 


TAORMINA  345 

genius  of  an  era  and  a  race  that  produced  this  monu- 
ment of  a  once  living  and  glorious  civilization.  As 
we  gazed  in  silent  wonderment  at  this  work  of  the 
ancients  we  were  not  oppressed  by  the  feeling  of  awe 
that  overcomes  the  visitor  to  the  Colosseum  at  Rome, 
that  stupendous  monument  of  the  brute  force  of  the 
subjugators  of  the  world.  We  were  enchanted  by  the 
artistic  inspirations  of  the  place,  and  felt  the  calm, 
pure  influence  of  a  race  of  men  that  before  all  else 
loved  art  and  worshipped  beauty  in  spirit  and  in  truth. 
The  Colosseum  awakened  thoughts  of  bloody  con- 
tests, gladiatorial  shows,  ferocious  tragedies,  orgies, 
hecatombs  of  human  beings  thrown  to  wild  beasts  or 
delivered  to  the  rage  of  brutal  executioners  who  set 
rivers  of  blood  flowing  "to  make  a  Roman  holiday" 
for  a  superlatively  cruel  people.  In  the  Greek  theatre, 
looking  out  upon  the  calm  splendors  of  the  sea,  upon 
the  wonderful  prospect  of  far-reaching  coasts,  upon 
snow-crowned  ^Etna  smoking  with  eternal  fires,  our 
thoughts  turned  to  the  triumphs  of  ^Eschylus,  Soph- 
ocles, Euripides,  Aristophanes,  who  in  this  self-same 
place,  ages  and  ages  ago,  took  tribute  of  tears  and 
laughter,  ruling  the  hearts  and  minds  of  countless 
multitudes.  Here  Timaeus  of  Tauromenion  recited 
his  annals;  here  also  were  chanted  the  songs  of  Ste- 
sichorus  of  Himera,  and  the  noble  verses  of  the  Grand 
Old  Man  of  Chios,  who  first  of  all  sang  the  wonders 
of  this  Land  of  the  Cyclops. 

Marvellous  prospect !  Seated  in  the  auditorium  of 
the  ancient  theatre  of  Taormina,  one  looks  across  the 
stage,  out  between  Corinthian  columns  and  broken 
Roman  arches,  a  fit  frame  for  an  inspiring  picture, 
upon  a  glorious  landscape  of  sea,  of  shore,  of  hill  and 


346  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

valley,  of  ^Etna  standing  between  the  earth  and  sky. 
What  sweeping  coast-lines  and  sky-lines  of  mountains  ! 
What  color  !  Violet  distances,  purple  mountains,  am- 
ethystine sea,  gold  of  reaped  fields,  dark  green  of  or- 
ange groves,  silver  of  olive-trees  and  almond  blossoms, 
glistening  snows  of  the  Pillar  of  Heaven,  and  over  all 
the  wonderful,  deep,  lustrous  blue  of  the  Sicilian  sky. 
On  the  plateau  behind  the  theatre  we  found  a  nu- 
merous party  of  young  men  and  boys  engaged  in  roll- 
ing the  soft,  damp  snow  into  cylinders  resembling  the 
frustum  of  a  column  of  marble.  Four  of  these  drums 
the  lads  placed  end  on  end,  one  above  the  other,  rais- 
ing a  shaft  about  seven  feet  in  height.  This  they 
quickly  shaped  with  their  hands  into  the  form  of  a 
man  wrapped  in  a  toga,  or  long  cloak,  which  fell  from 
the  shoulders  of  the  figure  in  by  no  means  ungraceful 
folds  to  the  ground.  Then  one  of  the  elder  lads, 
mounted  upon  the  shoulders  of  two  others,  roughly 
modelled  a  bust  and  head  surmounted  by  a  visorless 
cap.  The  sculptor  gave  place  to  another  and  younger 
lad,  the  genius  of  the  party,  who  skilfully  brought  out 
a  resemblance  to  Garibaldi  in  the  rough,  and,  working 
dexterously  with  his  fingers  and  a  piece  of  stick,  de- 
veloped the  resemblance  until,  without  exaggeration, 
we  may  say  we  beheld  a  striking  likeness  of  "  The 
Liberator."  The  beard,  the  nose,  the  eyes,  and  the 
ears,  the  well-known  cap,  all  were  so  skilfully  de- 
signed that  no  one  familiar  even  in  a  slight  degree 
with  the  features,  form,  and  favorite  attitude  of  Gari- 
baldi could  for  one  moment  doubt  the  verisimilitude 
of  the  snow  statue.  So  delighted  were  we  with  the 
remarkable  work  of  these  young  artists  born  and  bred 
that  we  clapped  our  hands  and  shouted  "  Bravissimi !" 


TAORMINA  347 

The  boys  modestly  doffed  their  caps  and  stood  ex- 
pectant as  we  slowly  examined  their  work.  We  asked 
one  of  them  if  they  attended  an  art  school :  he  smiled 
and  pleasantly  informed  us  that  he  and  his  compan- 
ions were  apprentices  to  tradesmen  in  Taormina,  to 
carpenters,  upholsterers,  and  the  like,  and  that  they 
had  only  amused  themselves  in  modelling  a  statue  of 
"The  Grand  Soldier." 

"  Had  you  a  portrait,  a  sketch,  a  photograph,  from 
which  to  copy  so  cleverly  the  details  of  the  likeness  ?" 
we  asked. 

"  Niente,  signore — all  Sicilian  boys  have  the  picture 
of  Garibaldi  in  their  hearts,"  said  one  of  the  youths, 
as  he  took  off  his  cap  and  bowed  gravely  towards  the 
statue. 

Presently  one  of  the  brightest  -  eyed  of  the  group 
asked  if  I  Signori  were  not  Americani.  Answered  in 
the  affirmative,  he  asked  if  Garibaldi  was  celebrated 
in  America.  We  told  him  yes,  and  that  in  our  own 
city  there  was  a  statue  of  Garibaldi,  whom  Americans 
honored  as  one  of  the  noblest  men  of  all  times.  The 
boys  were  wonderfully  pleased,  and  when  one  of  them 
struck  up  Garibaldi's  Hymn  the  whole  company  sang 
with  great  spirit  as  it  marched  round  and  round  the 
snow  figure.  By-and-by  the  lads  crowded  around  us 
to  ask  innumerable  questions  about  America,  the  ques- 
tions revealing  their  lack,  of  knowledge  of  the  country 
and  its  people.  They  listened  patiently  to  our  answers, 
straining  their  ears  and  minds  to  understand  our  bad 
Italian.  One  of  them,  the  principal  spokesman,  in- 
formed us  that  in  two  or  three  years  when  he  had  be- 
come a  man  he  intended  to  go  to  America,  where,  he 
said,  "  there  is  much  work,  much  pay,  and  plenty  of 


348  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

money  for  everybody."  Instantly  there  was  a  cry : 
"  Anche  io !  Anche  io! — I  also,  I  also  am  going  to 
America;  I  am  strong;  there  is  much  work  to  do  in 
America  and  much  money." 

Was  it  strange  that  we  could  not  resist  the  tempta- 
tion to  invite  these  brave  fellows  to  accompany  us  to 
the  hotel,  there  to  drink  "  un  poco  di  vino  "  to  the 
memory  of  Garibaldi.  And  they  came,  a  dozen  or 
more,  and  when  the  glasses  were  filled  with  wine  and 
water,  we  gave  as  our  "  brindisi  "  "  Garibaldi."  This 
toast  they  drank  with  many  cheers,  but  each  lad  in 
obedience  to  the  word  of  him  who  seemed  to  be  their 
leader,  the  young  artist  who  had  put  the  finishing 
touch  to  the  statue,  kept  half  a  glass  of  wine.  Then 
the  toast-master,  removing  his  hat,  in  a  loud  voice  pro- 
nounced the  word  "  America !"  and  the  glasses  were 
drained  to  the  last  drop.  A  small  cake  apiece  com- 
pleted the  happiness  of  the  members  of  this  interest- 
ing company,  and  with  many  hearty  hand-shakes  they 
took  leave  of  us  and  marched  up  the  street  leading  to 
the  Greek  theatre,  shouting  "Viva  1'  America!"  and 
singing  Garibaldi's  Hymn. 


XXXIX 
FAREWELL  TO   SICILY 

Spellbound — Messina — Scylla  and  Charybdis — In  the  Grasp 
of  Charybdis — Messina  to  Naples — The  Rocks  of  the  Sirens. 

The  wonders  of  Taormina  attracted  us  indescrib- 
ably ;  the  genius  of  the  place  beguiled  us  into  forget- 
fulness  of  the  fleeting  hours,  and  charmed  away  all 
thought  of  setting  forth  on  further  wanderings.  Ev- 
ery evening  we  planned  to  depart  for  Messina,  our 
last  Sicilian  journey ;  every  morning  we  wandered 
away  to  lose  ourselves  in  the  almond  orchards  on  the 
hill-side  below  the  Hotel  Timeo,  or  turned  our  steps 
to  the  old  Greek  theatre,  thence  once  more  to  gaze 
at  the  marvellous  prospect  of  ^Etna  and  the  Ionian 
Sea.  Not  until  two  weeks  after  our  arrival  at  Taor- 
mina (we  had  intended  staying  there  but  two  days) 
did  we  break  the  spell  that  bound  us  and  prepare  to 
take  our  departure.  But,  like  unwilling  school-boys 
returning  after  their  holidays  to  their  books,  we  were 
loath  to  leave  the  most -fascinating  country-side  we 
had  beheld  in  all  Sicily.  Truly,  we  were  sad  at  heart 
when  we  took  our  places  in  the  compartment  of  the 
railway  carriage  that  was  to  bear  us  from  the  wonder- 
land where  we  had  dwelt  in  great  content  and  happi- 
ness for  so  short  a  time. 

The  engine  gave  an  unearthly  shriek  as  it  dashed 


350  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

away  from  Giardini  and  plunged  into  a  tunnel  under 
the  foot  of  Monte  Tauro,  shutting  out  in  the  twin- 
kling of  an  eye  all  view  of  the  landscapes  we  loved  to 
look  upon.  When  we  came  again  into  the  sunlight, 
looking  seaward,  we  beheld  Isola  Bella,  the  dainty  sea- 
girt garden  whence  we  had  rowed  one  lovely  after- 
noon, across  the  bay  to  the  blue-and-green  grottos, 
which,  although  not  so  renowned,  are  nevertheless  as 
wonderful  and  as  weirdly  picturesque  as  those  of  Capri. 
Rounding  the  sea-face  of  a  promontory,  we  came  in 
sight  of  the  great  crags  of  Capo  Alessio  surmounted 
by  its  castle,  one  of  the  noblest  ruins  in  Sicily,  and  of 
all  most  grandly  placed.  For  a  few  moments  we  be- 
held high  above  us  the  rock -rooted  Norman  keep, 
rose -colored  and  golden  in  the  afternoon  sun,  and 
then  the  train  rushed  into  the  blackness  of  a  tunnel  a 
thousand  feet  below  the  foundation-stones  of  Ales- 
sio's  towers  and  battlements. 

From  Giardini  northward,  for  thirty  miles,  the  rail- 
way skirts  the  shores  of  the  Strait  of  Messina,  which 
narrows  and  narrows,  crowding  in  between  the  moun- 
tains of  Sicily  on  the  west  and  the  Calabrian  Apen- 
nines on  the  east.  At  one  moment  the  train  whirled 
along  narrow  ledges  hewn  in  the  wall  of  cliffs  over- 
hanging the  sea ;  at  the  next,  dashed  through  tun- 
nels, or  crossed  bridges  thrown  boldly  over  deep  and 
gloomy  canons  down  which,  in  winter  and  during 
summer  rains,  rush  the  incalculable,  irresistible  floods 
discharged  into  the  sea  by  countless  "fiumare."  These 
fiumare  are  to  be  distinguished  from  the  "  fiumi"  of 
Sicily ;  the  latter  are  constant  streams,  increasing  or 
diminishing  their  flow  in  proportion  to  the  volume  of 
rainfall,  but  nevertheless  sending  at  all  times  and  sea- 


FAREWELL   TO   SICILY  35 1 

sons  a  more  or  less  rapid  or  sluggish  current  across 
the  lowlands  seaward.  The  fiumare,  on  the  other 
hand,  run  dry  when  they  have  drained  the  mountain- 
sides, and  their  channels,  parched  by  the  hot  sun,  re- 
semble ruined  giant  highways  rather  than  the  beds  of 
water-courses.  Most  interesting  is,  all  the  land  along 
the  shores  of  the  Strait  of  Messina ;  the  mountains, 
rising  precipitously  from  the  sea,  are  cleft  and  riven 
by  fiumare ;  on  the  intervening  heights,  and  especial- 
ly on  the  verge  of  promontories,  are  ruins  of  old 
castles  of  Saracen,  of  Norman  days — of  older  times, 
when  Romans  fortified  every  headland,  every  coign  of 
vantage,  against  the  attack  of  enemies  who  time  and 
time  again,  invading  Sicily,  attempted  to  take  pos- 
session of  the  "  Key  to  the  Mediterranean."  The 
general  trend  of  the  eastern  shore-line  of  Sicily,  from 
Messina  to  Syracuse,  is  slightly  concave,  suggesting  the 
appropriate  simile  "the  unstrung  bow  of  Ulysses." 
This  configuration  brings  the  whole  coast  into  view 
from  both  ends  of  the  bow  and  from  intermediate 
capes  and  promontories  projecting  into  the  sea.  The 
grandeur  of  the  scenery  may  readily  be  imagined 
when  the  height  of  the  mountains  on  each  side  of 
Fretum  -Siculum,  as  the  strait  was  anciently  called,  is 
borne  in  mind.  The  Calabrian  Apennines,  on  the  east, 
uplift  their  peaks  between  seven  and  eight  thousand 
feet  above  the  sea,  the  Montes  Pelorides  rise  on  the 
west  to  almost  equal  heights. 

Opposite  Galati  we  beheld  across  the  shining  waters 
the  seaport  Reggio,  ancient  Rhegium,  where  St.  Paul 
landed  on  his  voyage  from  Syracuse  to  Puteoli ;  and, 
a  little  to  the  north  of  Reggio,  and  opposite  Treme- 
stiere,  tower  the  loftiest  peaks  of  the  Calabrian  Moun- 


352  PICTURESQUE    SICILY 

tains  that  rise  from  the  "  Toe  of  the  Italian  Boot." 
Owing  to  the  outline  of  its  shores  and  tidal  move- 
ments of  its  waters,  there  is  almost  always  a  strong 
current  setting  north  or  south,  according  to  the  pre- 
vailing wind,  through  the  Strait  of  Messina,  even  now 
one  of  the  great  water  highways  of  the  world,  which 
hourly  presents  a  busy  scene  of  great  interest  to  those 
who  take  delight  in  watching  the  manoeuvring  of 
countless  ships,  fleets  of  coasters  and  fishing-vessels. 

We  had  lingered  so  long  at  Taormina  that  we  were 
able  to  devote  but  a  few  hours  to  sight-seeing  in  Mes- 
sina— "  Messina  la  Nobile,"  as  it  has  been  called  for 
many  centuries.  But  we  had  inquired  diligently  con- 
cerning what  guide-books  call  "  the  attractions,  feat- 
ures, and  places  of  interest"  in  and  about  the  city, 
had  studied  carefully  many  books  of  travel,  from  all 
of  which  we  learned  that,  while  Messina  occupies,  per- 
haps, the  most  ancient  site  of  all  Sicilian  cities,  it  con- 
tains but  a  few  remains  of  antiquity,  still  fewer  relics 
of  mediaeval  days,  and  almost  no  objects  of  contem- 
poraneous interest.  Owing  to  its  position,  exposed  in 
all  ages  to  countless  sieges,  assaults,  land  and  sea  at- 
tacks, bombardments,  conflagrations,  and  earthquakes, 
Messina  of  the  Greeks,  of  the  Romans,  of  the  Byzan- 
tines, of  the  Saracens  and  Normans — in  a  word,  Mes- 
sina of  the  past,  has  disappeared  utterly  from  the  face 
of  the  earth.  Even  as  late  as  1848  the  Neapolitan 
soldiers  of  King  Bomba  ruthlessly  obliterated  the  few 
remaining  relics  of  ancient  days  which  had  escaped 
the  unimaginable  destruction  wrought  by  time  and 
weather,  by  natural  convulsions,  but  principally  by 
hosts  of  enemies  during  ages  of  incessant  warfare,  un- 
til the  citadels,  monuments,  churches,  convents,  pub- 


CASTELLO    S.  ALESSIO 


CASTELLO   S.   ALESSIO 


FAREWELL  TO   SICILY  353 

lie  buildings,  and  private  houses  of  Messina  were  re- 
duced to  an  indescribable  mass  of  ruins.  On  these 
ruins  has  risen  a  new  city,  modern  Messina,  recon- 
structed since  1848 — a  handsome,  well-built  town  of 
about  seventy  thousand  inhabitants,  the  seat  of  an 
archbishopric  and  of  a  university,  and  second  in  com- 
mercial importance  to  Palermo  alone  of  all  Sicilian 
cities.  The  houses  of  Messina  extend  along  the  shore 
for  the  distance  of  one  and  a  half  miles,  occupying  a 
narrow  strip  of  land  between  the  water  and  the  hills. 
On  the  slopes  above  the  town  are  vineyards  and  olive 
groves,  orchards  and  gardens,  and  all  the  rounded 
heights  are  crowned  with  fortresses  and  the  connect- 
ing crests  with  lines  of  fortifications. 

"  II  Porto  di  Messina,"  the  grand  harbor,  about  four 
miles  in  circumference,  is  enclosed  by  "  II  Braccio  di 
San  Ramieri,"  a  low  sand  spit,  which  extends  into  the 
sea  in  the  form  of  a  sickle,  recalling  the  fact  that  the 
founders  of  the  city  (Greek  pirates  from  Cumae)  called 
it  "  Zancle  "  (The  Sickle).  II  Corso  Vittorio  Emanuele, 
"  La  Marina,"  which  curves  along  the  margin  of  II 
Porto,  is  flanked  by  an  imposing  row  of  three -story 
buildings,  once  the  palaces  of  nobility,  but  now  trans- 
formed, many  of  them,  into  warehouses,  which  at  cer- 
tain seasons  are  literally  packed  with  boxes  of  oranges 
and  lemons.  At  the  time  of  our  visit  to  La  Marina 
these  fruits  seemed  to  be  as  common  and  plentiful  as 
coals  on  the  docks  and  wharves  at  Newcastle. 

Promptly  on  our  arrival  at  Messina  we  were  driven 
to  "La  Matrice,"  the  cathedral  founded  by  Count 
Roger  in  1098,  but  we  found  little  of  the  Norman 
structure  remaining  save  the  portals  of  the  facade, 
which  are  enriched  with  wonderful  stone  carvings,  the 
23 


354  PICTURESQUE  SICILY 

pulpit  of  sculptured  marble,  an  alto-rilievo  of  Saint 
Jerome  by  Gagini,  and  a  few  badly  preserved  landscapes 
in  "  tarsia  "  on  the  backs  of  the  seats  of  the  choir.  Of 
the  twelfth  -  century  mosaics,  for  which  this  cathedral 
is  justly  celebrated,  we  saw  nothing,  as  they  were 
screened  by  canvases,  behind  which  workmen  were 
busy  making  certain  restorations  deemed  necessary 
for  their  preservation.  Upon  the  altars  in  some  of 
the  chapels  we  noticed  sundry  cheap  tinsel  votive 
offerings  of  pious  sailors  who  had  escaped  the  dangers 
of  the  sea,  as  they  believed,  through  the  intercession 
of  the  saint,  or  of  the  Madonna,  to  whom  the  shrine 
was  dedicated.  We  examined  curiously  some  of  these 
gifts  —  models  of  ships,  rough  sketches  of  tempest- 
tossed  vessels — and  we  recalled  the  fact  that  in  the 
ancient  temples  of  Neptune,  one  of  which  stood  on 
Cape  Pharos,  near  the  city,  and  from  which  twenty- 
six  columns  of  granite  were  brought  to  embellish  this 
same  Christian  cathedral  of  Messina,  Greek  and  Ro- 
man mariners  had  hung  upon  the  altars  of  the  sea- 
gods  similar  offerings  to  testify  their  gratitude  to  the 
divinities  who  had  rescued  their  supplicants  from  "in- 
satiate Charybdis  and  the  wrath  of  Scylla."  Strange 
importations  from  a  pagan  temple  of  material  and 
ceremony  to  embellish  and  sanctify  a  Christian  church  ! 
As  in  the  days  of  Neptune,  so  now  in  the  "  Day  of 
the  Son  of  Man,"  the  question,  "  Where,  then,  are  the 
mariners  who  vowed  but  were  not  saved?"  remains 
unanswered — unanswerable. 

iEneas  himself  could  not  have  wished  for  fairer 
skies  or  smoother  seas  than  favored  us  when  the 
Calabria  steamed  out  of  II  Porto  di  Messina.  Seven 
and  a  half  miles  away  and  dead  ahead  we  beheld  the 


FAREWELL  TO   SICILY  355 

rock  of  Scylla  shining  brightly  in  the  sunlight,  on 
the  Calabrian  side  of  the  channel,  so  plain  a  mark 
that  it  would  indeed  go  hard  with  us  if  we  were  not 
able  to  shun  its  teeth  and  fangs.  But  we  remembered 
that  Charybdis  lay  in  wait  for  us  half  a  point  off  our 
port  bow,  and  there  was  no  telling  what  a  little  care- 
less twist  of  the  helm  might  do  if,  in  avoiding  the 
danger  we  plainly  saw  on  our  right  hand,  we  timor- 
ously gave  Scylla  too  wide  a  berth,  and  so  fell  into 
the  tangled  currents  on  our  left. 

There  is  little  trouble  in  locating  Scylla.  Even  at 
night  or  during  thick  weather  the  rock,  which  in 
Homer's  time  was  "  a  roaring  and  voracious  chimera 
of  the  sea,  a  beautiful  virgin  above,  a  monster  with 
wolf's  body  and  dolphin's  tail  below,"  is  easily  to  be 
recognized  and  as  easily  to  be  avoided.  It  stands 
boldly  out  from  the  precipitous  coast,  which  trends 
northeast  from  the  narrowest  part  of  the  Strait  of  Mes- 
sina, a  lofty,  rounded  promontory  on  which  is  seated 
an  ancient  castle  frowning  down  upon  the  town  that 
lies  at  its  southeastern  base.  Flowing  close  by  the 
foot  of  the  rock  is  a  tide-rip,  or  eddy,  sometimes  digni- 
fied by  the  title  "The  Whirlpool  of  Scylla";  and 
evidence  is  not  wanting  to  prove  that  the  whirlpool — 
not  the  rock — was  the  terror  of  mariners  in  classic 
days.  We  shall  provoke  no  argument  on  this  point, 
but  merely  indicate  that  the  doubt  as  to  the  identity 
of  Scylla  arises  from  the  fact  that  the  advocates  of 
the  whirlpool  theory  translate  trie  words  "  in  Scyl- 
lam"  occurring  in  the  well-known  line  " Incidis  in 
Scyllam  cupiens  vitare  Charybdim"  "  into  Scylla," 
while  those  who  maintain  the  rock  theory  insist  that 
the  true  meaning  is  "  upon  Scylla."     A  similar  con- 


356  PICTURESQUE  SICILY 

fusion  of  ideas  exists  regarding  Charybdis,  so  that  of 
only  one  thing  we  moderns  may  well  be  sure — to  wit, 
that  Charybdis  is  not,  and  never  has  been,  a  rock,  as 
most  classical  dictionaries  and  encyclopaedias  would 
have  us  believe.  Charybdis  is  a  current  which  sweeps 
along  the  shore  of  Cape  Faro,  off  the  point  of  which 
there  is  a  whirlpool  that,  even  to-day,  is  considered 
dangerous  to  sailing-vessels.  But  the  name  Charybdis 
is  also  applied  to  a  circular  current  which  ebbs  and 
flows  at  the  point  of  the  Sickle  of  Messina,  seven  and 
a  half  miles  from  Cape  Faro.  This  latter-mentioned 
whirlpool  is  called  "II  Garofano  "  (The  Carnation),  ow- 
ing to  its  form  and  the  appearance  of  its  waves,  which 
rise  and  spread  in  widening  circles  like  the  petals  of 
that  flower.  But  most  to  be  feared  is  that  whirlpool 
of  Charybdis  at  the  point  of  Cape  Faro,  where  "  The 
Strait"  is  no  more  than  thirty -six  hundred  yards  in 
width — that  is  to  say,  from  Faro,  in  Sicily,  southeast- 
wardly  across  the  water  to  the  fishing  village  of  Can- 
nitello,  in  Calabria.  We  were  given  an  exhibition  of 
the  force  and  eccentricity  of  this  strenuous  tide-rip 
when,  mindful  of  the  warning  of  Ovid  ("  medio  tutis- 
simus  ibis  "),  we  ran  the  gantlet  of  Scylla  and  Charyb- 
dis (which  feat  of  seamanship  we  had  little  difficulty 
in  performing,  as  Scylla  is  but  a  little  more  than  three 
and  a  half  miles  distant  from  Faro,  about  five  points 
to  the  south  of  east)  ;  and  so  escaped  from  the  narrow 
confines  of  the  Strait  of  Messina  into  the  widening 
expanse  of  the  Tyrrhenian  Sea.  As  the  Calabria, 
keeping  close  to  the  point  of  Cape  Faro,  crossed  an 
imaginary  line  drawn  between  the  Sicilian  Sands  and 
the  Rock  of  Scylla,  we  noticed  a  large  schooner  be- 
calmed within  two  hundred  yards  of  the  crescent  sand- 


FAREWELL   TO   SICILY  357 

spit,  that  forms  what  American  and  Dutch  sailors  call 
"  the  point  of  the  hook."  There  was  not  a  breath  of 
air  stirring,  and  the  little  craft  was  drifting  rapidly 
with  the  current  that  would  inevitably  carry  her,  and 
in  a  very  few  moments,  upon  the  sands  in  front  of  the 
light-house  on  the  Cape.  Her  crew  had  seen  the  dan- 
ger that  threatened  them,  and  people  on  shore  were 
signalling  frantically,  shouting,  gesticulating,  running 
up  and  down  the  beach  in  a  state  of  great  excitement, 
expecting  the  stranding  of  the  apparently  hopeless 
vessel.  The  great  depth  of  water  under  her  keel  pre- 
cluded the  possibility  of  bringing  the  schooner  to  an- 
chor, and  there  were  no  tugs  in  sight.  But  the  crew 
were  equal  to  the  emergency.  Two  boats,  with  tow- 
lines  made  fast  in  their  stern  sheets,  were  promptly 
got  away,  and  these  joined  by  a  larger  boat  from 
shore,  and  all  directed  by  the  master  of  the  schooner, 
were  pulled  to  a  distance  of  a  hundred  yards  ahead  of 
the  vessel  obliquely  from  the  line  of  her  drift  until 
they  reached  the  calm  water  outside  of  the  sweeping 
current.  Rowing  lustily,  the  oarsmen  in  the  three 
boats  checked  the  set  of  the  schooner  towards  the 
sands,  and  she  slowly,  almost  imperceptibly,  swung 
out  of  danger,  just  grazing  the  point  of  the  hook  with 
her  rudder-post  as  she  slipped  from  the  grasp  of  "  en- 
gulfing Charybdis." 

Interested  in  watching  the  manoeuvres  of  the  en- 
dangered schooner,  we  entirely  forgot  our  own  imag- 
inary peril  and  without  special  wonder  passed  safely 
into  the  open  sea  north  of  Cape  Faro,  from  which 
foreland  we  laid  our  course  to  the  Rocks  of  the  Sirens, 
at  the  entrance  to  the  Bay  of  Naples. 


APPENDIX 


LA  MAFIA 

Some  Sicilian  scholars  write  the  word  with  one  "f  "  (Mafia), 
others  with  two  (Maffia).  Giuseppe  Alonghi,  for  instance, 
prefers  the  latter,  Giuseppe  Pitre  the  former  orthography. 
Beyond  Sicily  the  word  is  commonly  spelled  Maffia.  There 
is  a  Tuscan  word  "  Maffia  "  (a  synonym  of  "  miseria  " — 
i.  <?.,  misery,  distress) ;  but  Pitre  denies  that  the  Sicilian 
word  is  derived  from,  or  bears  any  relation  to,  the  Tuscan 
"  Maffia."  Roquefort,  in  his  Glossaire  de  la  Langue  Ro- 
mane,  attempts  to  prove  that  Mafia  is  derivable  from  Maufe 
— Maufais — <r.  g.,  le  dieu  mauvais ;  i.  <?.,  le  diable.  Other 
writers,  seeking  the  root  of  the  word  in  the  Arabic,  pretend 
that  Mafia  is  derived  from  Ma-ifir,  the  name  of  an  Arab 
tribe  anciently  settled  at  Palermo.  Pitre  asserts  that  Mafia, 
a  word  little  known  prior  to  i860,  is  used  to  describe  an 
idea  or  thing  peculiar  to  Palermo  or  western  Sicily.  He 
states  that  in  II  Borgo,  a  district  of  Palermo,  the  word 
Mafia,  with  its  derivatives,  formerly  implied  beauty,  grace, 
perfection,  excellence  of  an  especial  type.  A  handsome  girl 
of  the  people,  conscious  of  her  good  looks,  showily  dressed, 
stylish,  striking,  "stunning,"  was  said  "to  have  mafia," 
"to  be  mafiusa,"  "mafiusedda."  The  house  of  a  citizen 
of  II  Borgo,  strongly  built,  well  furnished  and  arranged, 


360  APPENDIX 

was  spoken  of  as  "  una  casa  mafiusedda,"  or  "ammafiata." 
An  object  of  domestic  use  of  evident  superior  quality  was 
described  as  "mafiusa."  Often  in  Palermo  to-day  one  hears 
the  street -cry  "Arance-mafiuse" —  "fine  oranges"  —  etc. 
The  word  Mafia,  used  in  its  original  sense  with  reference 
to  a  man,  formerly  implied  more  than  mere  physical  at- 
tractions— viz.,  "  the  consciousness  of  being  a  man,  and 
acting  a  man's  part,"  displaying  true  courage  as  distin- 
guished from  boldness,  bravado,  arrogance,  truculence.  "  A 
man  of  mafia  " — "  mafiusu  "  (or,  as  the  Italians  write  it, 
"  mafioso  ") — did  not  necessarily  inspire  fear,  because  few 
men  were  more  polite,  more  mannerly,  than  the  Mafiusi  of 
old  days.  Since  i860  the  word  Mafia  has  received  a  new 
interpretation.  It  no  longer  possesses  the  significance  orig- 
inally given  to  it  by  the  denizens  of  II  Borgo  di  Palermo. 
In  1863  Giuseppe  Rizzoto,  a  playwriter  of  Palermo,  wrote 
and  acted  in  a  melodrama  representing  certain  phases  of 
life  in  the  great  prison  of  Palermo.  Rizzoto  at  first  called 
his  play  (which  originally  consisted  of  two  acts)  "  I  Mafiusi 
della  Vicaria,"  which  may  be  translated  "  The  Heroes  of 
the  Penitentiary."  Having  scored  a  wonderful  and  instan- 
taneous success  in  his  dual  role  of  playwriter  and  actor, 
Rizzoto  added  two  acts  to  his  play  and  reproduced  it  under 
the  title  "  I  Mafiusi,"  a  melodrama  which  has  kept  the  boards 
for  thirty  years,  having  been  performed  more  than  three 
thousand  times  in  the  principal  cities  of  Sicily  and  Italy. 
In  time  the  names  and  the  deeds  of  I  Mafiusi  of  the  prison 
of  Palermo  became  known  to  all  classes  of  Italians,  and  in 
this  way  the  words  Mafia  and  Mafioso  insinuated  themselves 
into  the  common  speech  of  Italy.  Mafia  is  to  be  found  in 
none  of  the  older  standard  Italian  dictionaries ;  it  is,  how- 
ever, beginning  to  be  recognized  by  lexicographers,  who 
accord  it  a  line  in  their  latest  editions.  So  much  we  can 
say  concerning  the  word  Mafia,  its  orthoepy,  its  orthography, 
and  its  etymology ;  but  when  we  come  to  deal  with  La  Mafia, 


MESSINA   CATHEDRAL 


APPENDIX  361 

the  thing,  the  idea — in  Mr.  Rudyard  Kipling's  phrase,  "  that 
is  another  story." 

That  a  definite  and  satisfactory  answer  to  the  inquiry, 
What  is  La  Mafia  ?  is  wanting,  may  be  due  to  the  fact  re- 
corded by  Giuseppe  Alonghi,  that  "  It  is  dangerous  for 
Sicilians  to  occupy  themselves  too  earnestly  with  the  study 
of  this  question."  With  other  writers  Alonghi  holds  that 
La  Mafia  is  not  a  sect  or  cult,  nor  yet  an  association  having 
rules,  regulations,  or  by-laws  ;  that  II  Mafioso  is  not  neces- 
sarily a  brigand,  a  robber,  or  a  highwayman.  Pitre  describes 
II  Mafioso  simply  as  "  a  man  of  courage  and  self-reliance,  of 
action,"  "  Che  non  porta  moschesul  naso"  ("Who  does  not 
allow  flies  to  sit  on  his  nose  ") ;  but  this  definition  falls  far 
short  of  the  modern  purport  and  significance  of  the  word. 

La  Mafia  is  the  consciousness  of  one's  own  importance 
and  power;  an  exaggerated  conceit  of  one's  own  individ- 
uality, in  the  sense  of  being  superior  to  moral,  social,  or 
political  law,  sole  arbiter  of  all  questions  concerning  one's 
relations  to  other  individuals  or  to  society  at  large.  Hence 
the  intolerance  of  II  Mafioso  of  all  authority,  his  contempt 
for  law,  his  lack  of  respect  for  the  opinions  of  others,  his 
truculent  defiance  of  all  authority  save  that  of  his  own  in- 
dividual judgment,  his  refusal  to  appeal  to  law  to  establish 
his  rights.  If  he  is  offended  he  declines  to  have  recourse 
to  the  ordinary  channels  of  justice,  he  refuses  to  go  to  law. 
If  he  does  so,  it  is  held  to  be  a  proof  of  his  weakness  ("  de- 
bolezza  "),  and  is,  moreover,  an  offence  against  the  unwrit- 
ten code  of  La  Mafia  known  as  "  Omerta."  La  Mafia  is  a 
phase  of  Sicilian  society ;  it  is  not  a  compact  organization 
of  individuals  bound  together  by  oaths,  a  secret  society  of 
members  who  recognize  one  another  by  grips  and  pass- 
words. It  is  a  state  of  social  immorality  tacitly  acquiesced 
in  by  an  indefinite  number  of  Sicilians,  who  order  their 
living,  regulate  their  thinking,  according  to  a  code  of  ethics 
called  "  Omerta." 


362  APPENDIX 

According  to  Bonfadini,  La  Mafia  is  a  development  and 
perfecting  of  individual  influence,  enhancing  every  possi- 
bility for  evil-doing.  It  is  the  expression  of  the  brutal  in- 
stinct of  self-preservation  on  the  part  of  all  individuals  who 
wish  to  live,  not  by  labor,  but  by  violence,  crime,  and  in- 
timidation. Franchetti  describes  it  as  the  survival  of  a  med- 
iaeval sentiment  which  brings  about  a  union  of  persons  of 
all  ranks  and  classes,  of  all  professions,  of  all  kinds,  who, 
without  apparent  reason  for  constant  and  regular  associa- 
tion, find  themselves  always  reuniting  to  promote  their 
common  interests,  to  nullify  the  operations  of  law  and  jus- 
tice, and  to  set  at  naught  the  authority  of  government. 
This  "  mediaeval  sentiment  "  operates  most  powerfully  upon 
the  minds  of  men  who  believe  themselves  able  to  order 
their  own  affairs  independently  of  equity  and  law.  La  Ma- 
fia, therefore,  may  be  said  to  be  a  conspiracy  of  the  strong 
and  masterful  against  the  weak  and  fearful. 

Only  a  small  minority  of  Sicilians  are  veritable  Mafiosi, 
but  this  masterful,  active  minority,  inspired  by  the  spirit  of 
evil,  "having  Omerta  in  their  hearts,"  terrorize  the  unor- 
ganized, timorous,  passive  majority,  the  peaceable  citizens 
who  go  in  fear  they  know  not  of  what  evils,  and,  knowing 
the  impotence  of  law  to  protect  them,  are  disposed  to  shield 
the  criminal  rather  than  to  deliver  him  up  to  justice,  choos- 
ing to  perjure  themselves  in  order  to  acquit  a  Mafioso  who 
has  injured  them  rather  than,  by  testifying  against  him,  to 
run  the  risk  of  falling  victims  to  his  vengeance. 

The  Mafiosi,  who  have  their  so-called  code  of  honor  (as 
have  the  believers  in  the  code  of  the  Duello),  disregard 
social  law,  and,  accepting  Omerta,  are  guided  by  its  teach- 
ings, and  by  it  regulate  their  lives  and  adjust  their  rela- 
tions to  their  fellow-men.  In  the  opinion  of  the  Mafioso, 
Omerta  lifts  him  above  all  law,  and  imposes  upon  him  the 
obligation  to  settle  all  controversies  by  force  and  violence, 
or,  if  he  himself  is  not  powerful  enough  to  accomplish  his 


APPENDIX  363 

purpose,  by  appeal  to  the  most  powerful  representative  of 
Omerta  in  his  district.  This  appeal  of  the  less  to  the 
more  powerful  creates  the  distinction  between  "  alta"  and 
"  bassa  "  Mafia,  high  and  low  Mafia ;  "  the  Mafia  in  yellow 
gloves  "  and  "  the  Mafia  in  caps,"  two  classes  of  Mafiosi, 
the  protectors  and  the  protected,  patrons  and  clients. 

Members  of  the  alta  Mafia  settle  their  difficulties  with 
the  sword,  the  bassa  Mafia  with  knives,  and  no  member  of 
the  Mafia,  high  or  low,  considers  himself  completely  satis- 
fied if  the  adjustment  has  not  been  brought  about  by 
other  means  than  by  an  appeal  to  social  law.  Mafiosi  have 
no  respect  for  law ;  they  are  a  law  unto  themselves,  and  be- 
lieve that  "  tra  la  legge  e  la  Mafia,  la  piu  temibile  non  e  la 
prima  " — "  between  law  and  La  Mafia,  the  first  is  not  the 
most  to  be  feared." 

Sicilian  scholars  are  not  of  one  mind  concerning  the  ety- 
mology of  Omerta,  but  the  weight  of  authority  is  in  favor 
of  the  definition  "  manliness,"  "  to  play  the  man,"  "  to  be 
serious,  earnest,  strong,"  or,  as  the  Sicilians  say,  "to  have 
blood  in  the  veins."  Omerta,  from  Omu  (Sicilian),  Uomo 
(Italian)  a  man. 

Omerta,  the  code  of  ethics  of  La  Mafia,  consists  of  popu- 
lar sayings,  proverbs,  apothegms,  expressed  generally  in  "  il 
gergo  Mafioso,"  a  variable,  inorganic  vernacular  or  slang 
that  resembles  "the  patter"  of  the  English  swell-mob  or  of 
American  "  crooks."  The  purport  and  intent  of  Omerta  is 
to  awaken  and  keep  alive  and  active  in  the  minds  of  those 
whose  natural  criminal  tendencies  fit  them  to  be  the  in- 
struments of  La  Mafia  sentiments  that  encourage  every 
Mafioso  to  make  himself  independent  of  law  and  soci- 
ety, e.  g. : 

"  La  furca  e  pri  lu  poviru,  la  giustizia  pri  lu  fissu." 
("  The  gallows  for  the  poor,  justice  for  the  fool.") 
This  and  many  other  proverbs  express  the  contempt  of 
La  Mafia  for  law.     That  a  Mafioso  should  always  be  on 


364  APPENDIX 

his  guard  and  go  armed  is  a  theory  inculcated  by  many 
proverbs  ;  e.  g. : 

"  Scupetta  e  mugghieri  nun  si  'mprestano." 

("  Never  lend  your  gun  or  your  wife.") 

It  will  be  noted  that  "gun  "  is  mentioned  first,  as  the 
more  important  article  of  the  two.  A  favorite  threat  of  the 
Mafiosi  is  : 

"  Si  moru  mi  drivocu,  si  campu  t'  allampu." 

("  If  I  die  I  shall  be  buried,  if  I  live  I  shall  kill  you  ") 
("  t'  allampu,"  i.  e.,  snuff  you  out  suddenly  like  a  lamp). 

Omerta  also  teaches  the  uselessness — the  absurdity,  in 
fact — of  investigating  crime  or  attempting  to  discover  a 
criminal : 

"  Quannu  cc'e  lu  mortu,  bisogna  pinsari  a  lu  vivu." 

("  When  a  man  is  dead,  it  is  better  to  think  of  the  living.") 

The  most  commonly  used  of  all  the  proverbs  of  Omerta  is  : 

"  Sangu  lava  sangu." 

("  Blood  washes  blood.") 

Above  all,  Omerta  inculcates  the  duty  of  silence.  Sicilians 
find  wit  and  wisdom  in  many  proverbs  the  moral  of  all  of 
which  is  that  "  in  the  presence  of  the  law  silence  is  a 
duty." 

"  Bell'  arti  parrari  picca." 

("  To  speak  little  is  a  fine  art") 

"  Cui  parra  si  cunfessa,  e  cui  fa  detta  paga." 

("  Who  speaks  confesses,  and  he  who  makes  debts  pays.") 

"  La  vucca  e  traditura  di  lu  cori." 

("  The  voice  is  traitor  to  the  heart") 

"L'  omu  chi  parra  assai,  nun  dici  nenti." 

("The  man  who  talks  enough  says  nothing.") 

"  L'  omu  chi  parra  picca  e  sapienti." 

("The  man  who  talks  little  is  wise.") 

"  La  tistimunianza  e  bona  'nsina  chi  nun  nbci  a  lu  pros- 
simu." 

("Testimony  is  good  if  it  doesn't  hurt  the  next  one.") 


APPENDIX  365 

"  Zoccu  nun  ti  apparteni  ne  mali  ne  bene." 

("  Of  that  which  does  not  concern  you,  say  neither  good 
nor  evil.") 

Moreover,  the  following  fable  is  familiar  to  all  Sicilians : 

"Once  upon  a  time  Speaking  and  Eating  requested  King 
Solomon  to  decide  which  of  them  should  control  the  Mouth, 
and  Solomon  decided  that  Eating,  not  Speaking,  should 
control  the  Mouth  of  Man,  lest  Speaking  be  the  ruin  of  the 
Man.  Since  then  the  less  a  Man  talks  the  better  he  has 
prospered." 

Silence  and  mystery  are,  therefore,  the  foundations  of 
Omerta.  Unless  he  keep  silent,  a  Mafioso  cannot  be  a 
man  (1'  omu)  as  the  word  is  defined  by  Omerta.  He 
must  be  silent  if  he  wishes  to  remain  hidden  from  the  eyes 
of  justice.  If  he  talks  about  others  he  contracts  debts 
that  he  will  most  certainly  be  called  upon  to  pay  to  the 
uttermost.  If  he  has  never  talked  he  need  not  fear  that  any 
one  will  testify  against  him  in  his  time  of  trouble.  Any 
man  who  has  the  art  of  keeping  silent,  who  believes  that 
he  can  protect  himself  against  all  other  men,  who  scorns  to 
appeal  to  law  for  protection,  who  is  the  law  to  himself, 
such  a  man  has  Omerta  in  his  heart,  and  is  said  to  be  a 
Mafioso. 

Now,  this  thing  Omerta,  this  so-called  code  of  La  Mafia, 
prevails  in  Sicily,  is  respected  throughout  the  island,  to  a 
less  degree,  it  is  true,  in  the  eastern  than  in  the  western 
parts.  If  it  be  a  survival  of  a  mediaeval  sentiment,  as 
Franchetti  holds  it  to  be,  the  fact  that  it  is  most  powerful 
to-day  in  those  districts  where  the  Saracens  ruled  longest 
and  most  absolutely  would  seem  to  prove  that  Omerta  is  a 
relic  of  the  lawlessness  which  characterized  Moslem  rule  in 
Sicily. 

Crimes  are  committed  in  the  most  daring  manner,  and 
rarely,  if  ever,  are  the  authorities  able  to  discover  the  au- 
thors of  them.      Nobody  denounces  the   malefactors,  al- 


366  APPENDIX 

though  they  may  be  well  known  ;  nobody  will  give  evidence 
against  the  criminals  if  they  are  arrested  on  suspicion. 
Not  even  the  wounded  victim  of  an  assault,  who  may  be 
dying  of  his  wounds,  can  be  induced  to  break  silence.  "He 
dies  and  makes  no  sign,"  or,  if  he  should  recover,  and  be 
strong  enough  and  bold  enough,  he  makes  an  early  oppor- 
tunity to  wreak  his  vengeance  upon  the  authors  of  his  in- 
juries. If  he  is  not  strong  enough  nor  bold  enough  to  deal 
with  his  enemies  he  suffers  and  remains  silent.  Frequently 
it  happens  that  in  the  first  moments  after  the  commission 
of  a  crime  the  police  have  succeeded  in  obtaining  some 
clue  to  the  perpetrators  of  it  from  a  witness,  who,  in  the 
police  court,  at  an  unguarded  moment,  or  laboring  under 
great  excitement,  denounces  the  criminals ;  but  at  the  jury 
trial  this  same  witness  denies  what  he  has  previously  said, 
withdraws  his  accusations,  and  the  criminal  escapes  pun- 
ishment. 

The  whole  fabric  of  La  Mafia  rests  on  murder.  The  the- 
ory of  Omerta  is  that  the  assassin  is  always,  if  not  actually 
present,  lurking  near,  and  prepared  to  act  his  part.  And 
there  is  no  department  of  social  life  in  which  this  mysterious 
power,  the  power  that  is  greater  than  law,  the  power  that  is 
greater  than  government,  La  Mafia,  does  not  prevail. 

All  brigands  are  Mafiosi,  but  all  Mafiosi  are  not  brig- 
ands. It  would  be  a  great  mistake  to  suppose  that  La  Ma- 
fia confines  itself  to  the  commission  of  acts  of  brigandage 
and  assassination. 

When  one  reads  the  tales  of  "  brigantaggio,"  one  can 
well  believe  that  life  in  Sicily  at  the  present  time  is  in  many 
respects  similar  to  life  on  "  the  Border  "  during  the  first  hun- 
dred years  after  the  union  of  Scotland  and  England,  "except 
that  the  crimes  of  the  Sicilian  outlaws  are  unredeemed  by 
any  touch  of  generosity,  chivalry,  or  manly  feeling  of  any 
kind."  * 

*T.  Adolphus  Trollope. 


APPENDIX  367 

Brigandage  is  the  most  violent  demonstration  of  La 
Mafia;  it  is  that  manifestation  of  Omerta  of  which  foreign- 
ers naturally  hear  most,  but,  so  far  as  the  Sicilians  are  con- 
cerned, brigandage  is  by  no  means  the  worst  feature  of  the 
general  lawlessness ;  it  is  the  phase  of  La  Mafia  that  it  will 
be  easiest  to  suppress.  Of  all  the  evils  that  afflict  Sicily  it 
will  be  the  first  to  disappear  when  the  island  is  properly 
policed ;  it  is  rapidly  disappearing,  owing  to  the  vigorous 
and  wise  policy  now  pursued  by  the  government  at  Rome. 

The  most  potent  for  evil  ("  prepotente  "),  the  cleverest 
cheat  ("  farabutto  "),  the  most  daring  villain  ("  facinoroso  "), 
the  most  truculent  bully — in  a  word,  the  ablest  Mafioso  in 
a  district — is  known  as  Capo  Mafioso,  and  this  superlative 
malefactor  rules  despotically  until  a  stronger  than  he  kills 
him  or  usurps  his  authority.  Every  Capo  Mafioso  seeks  to 
secure  as  his  partisans  the  assassins  and  malefactors  of  his 
district ;  he  invites  alliances  with  the  Capi  Mafiosi  of  other 
districts,  and  these  allies  make  common  cause  against  all 
enemies  so  long,  and  only  so  long,  as  their  joint  interests 
are  subserved  by  their  unholy  league.  La  Mafia  of  a  district 
("  Combriccola,"  an  assemblage  of  evil-disposed  persons) 
is  known  to  Italian  law  as  "  associazione  di  malfattori,"  or 
"associazione  a  delinquere."  Such  associations  are  com- 
posed to  a  certain  extent  of  the  upper  classes  ("gentiluo- 
mini"),  and  almost  without  exception  of  the  lower  classes 
("plebi"),  or,  as  they  are  known  in  Sicily,  the  "galantuo- 
mini"  and  "  picciuotti."  The  members  of  the  alta  Mafia 
rarely  stoop  to  the  commission  of  vulgar  crimes.  They  are 
powerful,  are  rich,  or  have  established  their  reputation  as 
insolent,  fearless,  cruel  bravos ;  and  they  have  but  to  hint  at 
the  violence  they  wish  to  see  committed,  and  their  retainers, 
their  clients,  of  the  Mafia  bassa,  stand  ready  to  act,  to 
murder,  to  rob,  abduct,  burn,  if  the  patron  do  but  so  much 
as  wink  his  eye  or  nod  his  head.  In  certain  localities  the 
organization  of  La  Mafia  is  more  or  less  perfect,  compos- 


368  APPENDIX 

ing  a  criminal  society  which  in  "  il  gergo  Mafioso "  is 
known  as  "la  cosca"  (the  leaf);  a  group  of  such  societies 
is  called  "la  cacocciula"  (carciofo — i.  e.,  artichoke)  ;  but  La 
Mafia  is  not  a  compact  association,  and  so  far  as  Sicily  at 
large  is  concerned  there  is  no  general  organization  of  Ma- 
fiosi.  Nevertheless,  La  Mafia  is  a  complex  social  phenom- 
enon which  manifests  itself  in  as  many  ways  as  there  are 
crimes  against  God  and  human-kind.  It  infects  and  afflicts 
the  whole  social  and  political  life  of  Sicily.  It  is  admitted 
to  exist,  it  is  accepted  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  it  involves 
all  classes  of  society,  it  pervades  every  department  of  life. 

As  in  other  lands,  in  every  community,  there  are  evil- 
minded  persons,  so  in  each  town  and  village,  and  in  every 
country  district  of  Sicily,  there  may  be  said  to  be  Mafiosi, 
who,  without  formal  organization,  consort  together  for  the 
furtherance  of  common  interests.  When  it  serves  their  pur- 
pose they  act  in  concert  in  defiance  of  law  and  order ;  their 
interests  changed  and  clashing,  they  quarrel  among  them- 
selves, and  by  their  vendettas  throw  the  community  into  dis- 
order, while  they  murder  and  commit  outrages  without  let 
or  hindrance.  La  Mafia  operates  with  knife,  with  gun, 
with  dagger,  with  halter,  with  fire,  and  with  poison.  It 
sequestrates  people,  whom  it  holds  for  ransom;  it  tyrannizes 
over  honest  people  by  the  terror  of  its  name.  It  enters  into 
affairs  of  all  kinds ;  it  busies  itself  to  secure  verdicts  in 
the  courts  in  favor  of  its  friends,  and  to  secure  the  con- 
demnation of  its  enemies ;  it  terrorizes  witnesses  on  the 
stand  and  closes  their  mouths,  or  compels  them,  by  the 
silent,  unspoken  threat  of  its  existence,  to  commit  perjury. 
It  is  said  that  in  times  past  it  even  dared  to  coerce  the 
judiciary.  Judges  on  the  bench  feared  to  deliver  just  ver- 
dicts with  the  vengeance  of  La  Mafia  hanging  over  their 
heads  like  the  sword  of  Damocles. 

The  condition  of  affairs  implied  by  the  existence  of  La 
Mafia  is  not  peculiar  to  Sicily ;  the  name  La  Mafia  is  sim- 


CARVED    PORTAL.      MESSINA    CATHEDRAL 


APPENDIX  369 

ply  a  Sicilian  name  for  a  condition  of  society  that  has  pre- 
vailed in  all  countries  in  their  progress  from  barbarism  to 
civilization,  when  those  countries  have  reached  an  epoch  in 
their  history  similar  to  that  through  which  Sicily  is  passing 
at  the  present  time.  If  Sicily  to-day  lingers  under  the 
shadow  of  mediaeval  barbarism,  it  is  because  Sicily  has  re- 
mained stationary  while  the  rest  of  the  civilized  world  has 
advanced.  "  Sicily  is  not  of  to-day."  She  presents  to  the 
study  of  the  world  a  state  of  society  for  the  analogue  of 
which,  in  England,  we  should  probably  have  to  cry  back  to 
the  time  of  Henry  VII.  or  Henry  VIII.,  when  England  was 
passing  from  beneath  the  yoke  of  feudalism  and  entering 
upon  a  new  and  higher  national  life.  In  Germany  a  similar 
condition  of  things  existed  in  the  years  that  followed  the 
disasters  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War  ;  and  France  presented  a 
similar  picture  of  semi-barbarism,  of  social  disorder,  during 
the  fifty  years  that  preceded  the  French  Revolution. 

It  is  not  true,  as  is  sometimes  alleged,  that  under  the 
reign  of  the  Bourbons  there  was  less  crime  in  Sicily ;  it  is 
not  true  that  the  thing  called  La  Mafia  was  unknown  prior 
to  i860.  In  the  days  of  the  Bourbons  brigandage  was  a 
monopoly,  the  profits  of  which  were  enjoyed  by  the  govern- 
ment itself;  the  greatest  Mafiosi  in  the  island  were  the  gov- 
ernment officials,  the  most  desperate  bravos  were  the  police. 
Of  the  causes  that  have  brought  about  a  state  of  society 
from  which  La  Mafia,  with  its  code  of  ethics,  Omerta,  em- 
anates as  naturally  as  malaria  emanates  from  a  noisome 
swamp,  it  is  not  our  purpose  here  and  now  to  speak,  but 
we  are  convinced  that  La  Mafia  and  Omerta  are  not  the 
causes  of  the  disorder  and  misery  that  prevail  in  Sicily 
to-day ;  they  are  but  two  symptoms  of  a  social  disease  that, 
unless  its  progress  is  checked,  will  slowly  but  surely  wear 
away  the  life  of  a  brave  but  unhappy  people.  Of  one 
thing  we  may  be  assured — the  present  government  of  Italy, 
under  Marquis  di  Rudini,  himself  a  Sicilian,  is  wisely  ap- 


370  APPENDIX 

plying  the  remedies  which  will,  if  persisted  in,  crush  the 
power  of  La  Mafia,  eradicate  Omerta,  and,  finally,  establish 
a  reign  of  law  and  order  in  an  island  that  had  been  bar- 
barized by  centuries  of  infamous  misgovernment. 

Note. — The  foregoing  account  of  La  Mafia  and  Omerta  has  been 
compiled  from  so  many  books,  pamphlets,  periodicals,  etc.,  that  it  has 
been  impossible  in  every  instance  to  credit  to  their  authors  the  various 
statements  it  contains.  My  object  has  been  to  cast  a  little  light  upon 
a  subject  concerning  which  much  matter  has  been  given  to  the  press 
that  is,  to  say  the  least,  ill  considered,  if  not  entirely  sensational. 

W.  A.  P. 


BRIGANDAGE 

Guy  de  Maupassant,  treating  of  brigandage  in  Sicily  in 
the  year  1890,  unhesitatingly  informs  the  travelling  public 
that  if  it  is  in  search  of  "  blows  of  poniards  "  and  "  arres 
tations  "  it  had  better  look  for  them  in  Paris  or  in  London 
and  not  waste  its  time  in  Sicily.  He  moreover  utterly  dis- 
credits the  stories  current  in  his  and  other  countries  of  the 
outrages  on  persons  and  property  alleged  to  have  been  com- 
mitted by  Sicilian  highwaymen,  and  dismisses  the  subject 
as  arbitrarily  as  Theodore  de  Banville  has  settled  the  ques- 
tion of  "  poetical  license."  "  II  n'y  en  a  pas  !"  So  of  brigands 
in  Sicily,  Guy  de  Maupassant  would  have  us  believe  that 
"  there  are  none." 

Rend  Bazin,  who  visited  Sicily  in  1893,  asserts  without 
fear  of  contradiction  that  there  are  no  brigands  in  Sicily.  "  II 
n'existe  plus  de  brigands  en  Sicile."  Sicilians  will  tell  you 
that  the  idea  that  Sicily  is  infested  by  "briganti"  is  ridicu- 
lous. They  admit,  however,  that  "  brigantaggio  "  is  rife  in 
Calabria  and  Sardina,  but  not  in  Sicily.     On  the  other  hand, 


APPENDIX  371 

Calabrians  and  Sardinians  assure  you  that  if  you  are  look- 
ing for  brigands  you  must  go  to  Sicily. 

It  is  not  to  be  disputed  that  the  brigand  of  classic  times, 
the  brigand  of  romance  and  Italian  opera,  is  no  longer  to 
be  found  in  Sicily.  The  fascinating  villains,  the  popular 
heroes,  the  Francatrippas,  Pasquale  Brunos,  Schiavorris, 
Luigi  Vampas,  Beppe  Mastrillos — the  picturesque  cavalieri 
who,  in  the  Sicilian  phrase,  "gave  themselves  to  the  cam- 
pagna "  in  the  good  old  days,  arrayed  in  velveteens  and 
gold  lace,  with  plumes  proudly  nodding  in  their  hats,  who 
climbed  mountains  with  the  graceful  agility  of  the  chamois  or 
moufflon — the  dainty  gentry  whose  feet  were  encased  in 
kidskin  boots,  whose  arms  glistened  with  silver  and  inlaid 
gold,  have  disappeared,  and  of  them  it  may  with  truth  be 
said  in  the  words  of  Rene  Bazin,  "  ils  n'existent  plus."  But 
that  there  are  ruffians,  highwaymen,  horse  -  thieves,  and 
assassins  in  Sicily  may  be  readily  gathered  from  the  story 
of  certain  members  of  La  Banda  Maurina — that  is  to  say, 
"  The  Brigands  of  Santo  Mauro  Castelverde,  in  the  Province 
of  Palermo." 

Santo  Mauro  has  for  many  years  borne  an  infamous  repu- 
tation as  a  resort  of  a  band  of  desperadoes  who  oppressed 
by  their  presence  the  neighborhood  of  their  chosen  en- 
campment in  the  fastnesses  of  the  Madonian  mountains, 
where  they  were  wont  to  assemble.  This  band  of  miscre- 
ants murdered  peaceable  citizens,  terrorized  peasants  and 
proprietors  alike,  harried  the  country,  committing  rapine  and 
arson,  assaulted  innocent  men  and  women — and,  until  late- 
ly, with  impunity.  Nor  did  these  "  bravi  "  hesitate  to  turn 
their  knives  against  their  own  associates,  committing  mur- 
ders on  all  occasions  upon  the  slightest  provocation,  or 
upon  no  provocation,  at  times  apparently  inspired  solely  by 
the  delight  it  gave  them  to  shed  human  blood. 

Shortly  before  we  arrived  in  Sicily  Giuseppe  Leonardo 
and  Giovanni  Botindari  (ringleaders),  and  eight  other  mem- 


372  APPENDIX 

bers  of  the  band,  were  arrested  and  safely  lodged  in  prison. 
Their  trial,  which  lasted  a  month,  was  held  in  the  Assize 
Court  of  Palermo,  and,  as  we  were  frequently  present  during 
its  progress,  we  learned  the  story  of  the  criminals  at  the  bar. 

Botindari,  who  pleaded  "not  guilty"  to  thirty -two  in- 
dictments for  manslaughter,  attempted  to  extenuate  his 
guilt  by  attributing  his  first  crime  to  "  fate."  He  asserted 
that  he  was  the  victim  of  a  train  of  circumstances  over 
which  he  had  no  control,  and  insisted  that  therefore  he  was 
morally  innocent  of  all  subsequent  delinquencies,  as  he  had 
no  alternative  but  to  continue  to  live,  as  he  was  doomed  by 
social  law  to  live  after  his  first  offence,  as  a  thief  and  an  as- 
sassin. He  testified  that  he  was  born  of  respectable  parents, 
who  sent  him  to  school  until  he  was  thirteen  years  of  age. 
His  parents  died,  and  he  began  life  as  a  macaroni-maker. 
At  nineteen  he  married,  and  lived  happily  with  his  wife  and 
children  until  he  was  twenty-five,  when  he  fell  a  victim  to 
the  "fatality"  that  wrecked  his  life  and  utterly  changed  his 
career.  Family  troubles  drove  him  to  commit  murder ;  he 
attempted  to  assassinate  his  brother  -  in  -  law,  and,  fearing 
the  vengeance  of  the  wounded  man's  family,  fled  to  the 
mountains  —  "gave  himself  to  the  campagna."  From  that 
time  he  admitted  he  became  an  habitual  criminal,  and  was 
thenceforward  known  as  "  Botindari  the  Brigand."  For  all 
his  subsequent  career  of  crime,  he  argued,  he  was  not  to 
blame;  "  he  was  a  victim  of  fate,  of  circumstances  over  which 
he  had  no  control."  He  reiterated  that  formula  as  if  he 
had  found  in  it  a  balm  for  his  troubled  conscience. 

Botindari's  chief  associate  in  crime  was  Giuseppe  Leo- 
nardo, whose  first  offence  (committed  while  he  was  a  boy) 
was  the  attempted  murder  of  his  cousin,  with  whom  he  had 
a  falling  out  about  family  matters.  Giuseppe  went  to  the 
house  where  his  cousin  was  staying,  called  him  out,  and 
fired  a  gun-shot  at  him,  but  missed  him.  In  this  way  Giu- 
seppe Leonardo  "gave  himself  to  the  campagna." 


APPENDIX  373 

The  most  sensational,  although  by  no  means  the  most 
tragical,  of  all  the  exploits  of  La  Banda  Maurina  was  the 
abduction  and  attempted  assassination  of  Baron  Spitalieri, 
and  its  daylight  attack  on  the  castle  of  his  aunt,  the  Bar- 
oness Ciancio.  It  was  for  this  crime  that  the  prisoners  were 
arraigned  as  above  related. 

It  was  known  that  the  baroness,  padronessa  of  the  man- 
or of  Santo  Torado  and  other  contiguous  properties,  received 
the  rentals  from  her  lands  on  August  20.  On  that  day 
Baron  Spitalieri  went  with  his  son  Felice  to  Poira,  the 
country-seat  of  the  baroness.  The  next  morning  the  baron 
left  the  castle,  accompanied  by  several  workmen,  for  the 
purpose  of  showing  them  where  to  build  a  water  conduit. 
In  a  ravine  near  the  castle  he  perceived  some  horses  fully 
caparisoned.  At  the  same  time  he  descried  a  number  of 
armed  men  lurking  in  the  underbrush.  He  did  not  at  first 
believe  that  they  were  brigands,  as,  up  to  that  moment, 
brigandage  was  not  known  in  his  country-side,  and  he  had 
been  accustomed  to  go  about  alone. 

"  Are  you  the  Baron  Spitalieri  ?"  asked  one  of  the  brig- 
ands. The  baron  replied  "I  am,"  and  was  immediately 
surrounded ;  his  companions  tried  to  escape.  One  of  the 
brigands  said  :  "  Do  not  be  afraid  ;  we  do  not  want  to  take 
your  life.  We  want  money."  He  was  taken  to  the  castle, 
and  one  of  the  band  delivered  a  letter  directed  to  the  bar- 
oness, in  which  50,000  lire  was  demanded  for  the  baron's 
ransom.  Another  of  the  brigands  insisted  that  the  "  sum 
ought  to  be  500,000  lire."  Just  at  that  moment  II  Baro- 
nello  Felice  (the  little  baron)  came  running  out  of  the  door, 
having  a  gun  in  his  hand.  The  brigands  fired  at  him,  and 
at  the  people  who  came  to  the  castle  windows.  One  of  the 
shots  grazed  the  head  of  II  Baronello,  burning  his  hair. 
A  brigand  assured  the  baron  that  they  would  kill  "any  one 
who  appeared  in  uniform  or  bearing  arms."  The  life  of 
young  Spitalieri  was  spared  by  Candino,  who  that  day,  act- 


374  APPENDIX 

ing  as  chief  brigand,  would  not  permit  any  outrage  to  be 
perpetrated  on  the  baron,  on  his  son,  or  on  his  aunt  the 
baroness.  The  band,  however,  wounded  a  servant  with  a 
knife,  upon  which  Candino  exclaimed,  with  an  oath,  "  He 
who  to-day  spills  a  drop  of  human  blood  will  have  to  reckon 
with  me  !"  Quiet  being  restored,  the  baron's  ransom — 
50,000  lire — was  paid  to  the  brigands  by  the  chaplain  to 
the  baroness,  and  the  baron  was  released.  The  brigands 
departed,  but  soon  returned  and  "  with  a  flourish  of  arms," 
invaded  all  the  apartments  of  the  castle,  smashing  the  fur- 
niture and  ornaments.  They  found  several  boxes  full  of  coin 
and  bank-bills;  these  the  robbers  emptied,  taking  in  all 
about  250,000  lire.  The  baron  testified  "  that  the  brigands 
literally  stuffed  themselves  with  bank-bills,  and  one  carried 
off  with  him  a  sack  of  coin  on  his  shoulder."  When  the 
castle  was  looted  the  band  finally  departed,  all  save  one  of 
the  brigands,  who  returned  to  restore  a  gold  watch,  saying 
"  We  do  not  want  trinkets  ;  they  are  too  compromising." 

Nine  months  after  the  assault  on  the  castle  of  La  Baron- 
ella,  Botindari  was  captured  by  the  carabinieri,  after  a  desper- 
ate fight  lasting  five  hours,  during  which  the  brigand  chief 
defended  himself,  stationed  on  the  top  of  a  high  cliff  in  the 
mountains.  Thereafter  Leonardo  also  fell  into  the  hands 
of  the  police,  and  later  still  the  carabinieri  laid  certain  other 
members  of  La  Banda  Maurina  by  the  heels  after  a  hot 
fight,  which  lasted  an  hour,  during  which  Rinaldi,  a  particu- 
larly ferocious  bandit,  was  killed  in  the  conflict  with  the 
public  forces.  Others  of  the  brigands  escaped,  but  the 
carabinieri  had  broken  up  La  Banda  Maurina  by  capturing 
eight  of  its  members,  killing  others,  and  driving  the  remain- 
ing few  from  their  accustomed  lurking-places. 

While  the  captured  brigands  were  in  prison  awaiting  their 
trial,  the  fugitive  members  of  La  Banda  Maurina  made  their 
appearance  in  July,  1894,  in  the  province  of  Messina.  The 
presence  of  the  brigands  in  their  neighborhood  alarmed  the 


APPENDIX  375 

citizens  of  Cesaro,  a  little  town  near  Troina,  and  Francesco 
Leanza,  a  farmer,  determined  to  rid  the  country  of  the  des- 
perati.  Leanza  is  a  man  of  gigantic  stature,  a  wonderful 
shot,  of  whom  Giornale  di  Sicilia  asserts  that  "  he  can  hit  a 
soldo  piece  with  a  bullet  fired  from  his  gun  while  his  horse 
is  galloping  at  full  speed."  Be  this  as  it  may,  Leanza,  his 
three  sons,  and  two  campieri  (farm  hands)  succeeded  in 
stealing  up  close  to  five  brigands  seated  around  their  camp- 
fire,  roasting  the  flesh  of  a  cow  they  had  stolen  from  a 
herdsman  of  Pozzillo.  At  a  signal  from  Leanza  he  and  his 
companions  opened  fire,  and  five  "famosi  maurini "  were 
killed.  A  sixth  brigand,  who  had  been  acting  as  vedette, 
hearing  the  reports  of  the  guns,  ran  towards  the  camp-fire 
and  was  promptly  shot,  dropping  dead  in  his  tracks. 

It  is  the  boast  of  the  people  of  the  province  of  Messina 
that  a  brigand  cannot  set  foot  in  their  territory  and  live, 
and  Leanza  and  his  men  had  vindicated  the  good  name  of 
their  native  province.  What  wonder,  then,  that  the  six  men 
of  Cesaro  became  the  heroes  of  the  hour,  and  were  greatly 
honored  not  only  in  their  own  town,  but  in  all  parts  of  the 
island.  For  the  "  brillantissimo  servizio "  rendered  to 
their  province  and  to  the  people  of  Sicily,  Leanza,  his  three 
sons,  and  his  two  campieri  were  given  a  reward  of  25,000 
lire,  to  be  divided  among  them.  By  the  death  of  the  six 
brigands  La  Banda  Maurina  was  finally  broken  up — the 
most  redoubtable  of  its  members  were  dead  or  in  prison 
or  had  fled  the  country. 

During  the  trial  of  Botindari,  Leonardo,  and  their  capt- 
ured associates,  the  prisoners  were  defended  by  some  of 
the  ablest  lawyers  at  the  Sicilian  bar.  Botindari  had  the 
services  of  seven  advocates  and  counsellors  of  distinction 
and  ability.  Leonardo  was  defended  by  three  of  the  ablest 
lawyers  in  Palermo.  All  the  others  had  counsel,  either 
through  retainer  or  through  assignment  by  the  court. 

On  the  bench  in  the  court-room,  the  ancient  refectory  of 


376  APPENDIX 

the  Convent  of  San  Francesco,  sat  three  of  the  ablest  and 
most  distinguished  judges  of  the  Italian  courts.  The  jury 
was  carefully  chosen,  and  the  trial  was  conducted  with  a 
solemnity  and  an  impressiveness  that  would  have  become 
the  highest  of  English  or  American  tribunals.  The  large 
crowd  of  spectators  attending  each  session  was  orderly, 
intensely  interested,  but  remarkably  respectful  in  demeanor, 
and  the  verdict  of  the  jury  (which  remained  in  deliberation 
for  six  hours)  was  received  by  all  law  -  abiding,  patriotic 
Sicilians  with  the  greatest  satisfaction.  Exact  and  even 
justice  was  meted  out  by  the  court  and  jury  to  as  brutal  a 
gang  of  malefactors  as  ever  infested  any  country  in  the 
world.  It  must  be  remembered  that  the  death  penalty  has 
been  abolished  in  Italy;  a  fact  that  the  many  victims  of 
La  Banda  Maurina  still  living  undoubtedly  deplore.  Bo- 
tindari  and  Leonardo  were  sentenced  to  hard  labor,  in 
solitary  confinement,  for  life.  Others  of  the  band  received 
minor  sentences,  and  two  old  men  were  discharged,  as 
there  was  no  evidence  that  they  had  ever  participated  in 
any  crime,  and  they  could  not  be  held  responsible  in  law 
for  the  misdeeds  of  a  younger  generation  of  their  fam- 
ilies. 

In  relating  the  story  of  Botindari,  Leonardo,  and  their 
fellows  in  crime,  it  has  been  attempted  to  set  forth  an  un- 
sensational  description  of  brigandage  as  it  exists  in  Sicily 
to-day,  to  state  facts  as  they  are,  to  demonstrate  that  there 
is  not  the  slightest  color  of  romance,  of  poetical  glamour, 
to  be  found  in  the  records  of  the  crimes  perpetrated  by  the 
brigands  of  a  country  where  brigands  are  supposed  to  be 
popular  heroes  of  the  hour,  and  where  all  such  villains  are 
alleged  "  to  go  unwhipped  of  justice." 

That  such  a  state  of  affairs  exists  to-day  in  Sicily  is  to 
be  accounted  for  by  the  fact  that  "  Sicily  is  not  of  to-day." 
To  appreciate  and  understand  the  present  social  conditions 
of  Sicily,  we  must  employ  the  moral  criteria  of  generations 


APPENDIX  377 

that  have  long  since  passed  away  from  countries  where 
brigandage  does  not  exist. 

Sicily  lies  under  the  shadow  of  a  dark  cloud.  "  There  is 
no  darkness  but  ignorance,"  and  the  ignorance  of  four- 
fifths  of  the  Sicilians  is  that  of  mediaeval  times.  "  Is  it  the 
fault  of  the  islanders  that  they  are  poor?  Is  it  the  fault  of 
the  peasantry  that  they  cannot  read  ;  of  the  small  landed 
proprietors  that  they  comprehend  nothing  of  modern  obli- 
gations? In  a  word,  can  we  reproach  Sicily  for  not  being 
civilized  ?  What  chance  has  she  had  to  become  civilized?"  * 
For  ninety  generations  Sicily  has  been  plundered  by  all 
comers.  Barely  one  generation  has  passed  away  since  she 
became  free.  What  progress  along  the  road  of  civilization 
did  the  Anglo  -  Saxon  race  make  in  one  generation  ?  In 
Doctor  Johnson's  time  the  Highlanders  of  Scotland  were 
more  uncivilized,  more  barbarous,  than  are  to-day  the  in- 
habitants of  the  wild  mountain  valley  of  Sicily.  Brigand- 
age is  a  natural  outgrowth  of  social  conditions  existing  to- 
day in  Sicily;  soldiers  and  policemen  can  but  repress  it; 
the  school-masters  will,  in  time,  eradicate  the  evil. 

While  we  are  not  willing  to  affirm  with  MM.  Guy  de 
Maupassant  and  Rend  Bazin  that  brigandage  does  not 
exist  in  Sicily  at  the  present  time,  we  nevertheless  have 
no  hesitation  in  stating  that  it  is  simply  absurd  for  travel- 
lers to  be  deterred  from  visiting  the  wonderful  island  by 
the  fear  that  they  may  be  captured,  carried  off  to  the 
mountains,  and  held  for  ransom  by  Sicilian  brigands.  The 
lurking-places  of  these  "  cavalieri  d'  industria  "  are  few  and 
far  between,  and  are  not  traversed  by  the  main  lines  of 
travel ;  moreover,  all  places  possessed  of  historical  or  gen- 
eral interest  to  the  travelling  public  do  not  lie  in  what  may  be 
called  "  the  dangerous  districts,"  and  may  be  visited  in  per- 
fect safety  at  all  times.    We  speak  from  personal  experience. 

*  Le  Vicomte  Combes  de  Lestrade.  La  Sicile  sous  la  Mon- 
archie  de  Savoie. 


378  APPENDIX 


THE   SICILIAN   QUESTION 

"  Sicily  is  the  Ireland  of  Italy."  In  these  words  Italian, 
German,  and  French  writers  of  books  on  Sicily  sum  up  their 
statements  of  the  "  Sicilian  Question."  Sicilians  insist  that 
the  wrongs  which  accrue  from  the  maladministration  of 
their  public  affairs  by  the  Italian  government  are,  in  their 
nature,  "  similar  to  the  wrongs  from  which  Ireland  has  suf- 
fered so  many  centuries  under  English  rule."  Some  Ital- 
ians maintain  that  the  political  and  social  disorders — La 
Mafia,  brigandage,  etc. — which  blight  the  prosperity  of 
Sicily  are  engendered  by  the  same  feeling  of  discontent 
which  provokes  the  Irish  to  hatred  of  all  things  English  ; 
while  others  admit  the  misgovernment  of  the  island.  No 
doubt  there  are  two  sides  to  the  Sicilian  question,  as  there 
are  two  sides  to  the  Irish  question.  We  have  not  space  or 
time  to  discuss  the  problem  which  is  engaging  the  atten- 
tion and  taxing  the  thought  of  Italian  and  Sicilian  states- 
men, political  economists,  journalists,  and  pamphleteers ;  a 
problem  which,  whatever  may  be  said  of  it,  seems  to  bear 
the  same  relation  to  Italian  politics  that  the  Irish  question, 
at  present  apparently  in  abeyance,  has  borne  for  so  many 
years  to  the  politics  of  Great  Britain.  The  fact  remains  that 
just  as  there  is  an  Irish  question,  so  there  is  a  Sicilian  question. 

M.  le  Vicomte  Combes  de  Lestrade,  in  the  opening 
chapter  of  his  valuable  book,  La  Sicile  sous  la  Monarchic 
de  Savoie,  exclaims :  "  La  Sicile,  l'ile  fortunee,  le  paradis 
d'Europe,  est  devenue  l'lrlande  de  l'ltalie.  Aucune  lamen- 
tation n'e'quivaudrait  a  la  tristesse  de  ce  mot,  couramment 
employe".  Des  miseres  de  l'lrlande,  des  exactions  qu'elle 
a  subies,  est  nee  la  question  Irlandaise.  La  question  Sici- 
lienne  est  moins  complexe  encore,  sinon  plus  aise'e  a  rd- 
soudre." 


APPENDIX  379 

"What  is  this  everlasting  Sicilian  question?"  asks  Pas- 
quale  Villari,  and,  despairing  of  an  answer  to  his  inquiry,  he 
adds,  "  The  more  one  studies  it,  the  more  one  writes  about 
it,  the  more  do  one's  ideas  become  clouded."  True  it  is 
that  for  many  years  Sicily  has  been  afflicted  by  a  deep- 
seated  and  seemingly  incurable  social  disorder,  due  to 
many  causes,  but  primarily  to  the  miserable  condition  of 
the  commercial  and  laboring  classes.  The  Sicilians  them- 
selves are  not  agreed  as  to  the  source  of  their  misfortunes. 
They  view  the  question  from  different  stand-points,  discuss 
the  results  of  endless  investigations,  dissent  in  their  opin- 
ions as  to  the  origin  of  the  evils,  and,  presenting  many  op- 
posing theories  concerning  the  value  of  suggested  rem- 
edies, oppose  facts  with  facts,  words  with  words,  engage  in 
endless  arguments,  apparently  to  no  practical  purpose. 

According  to  some  theories  the  unhappy  state  of  the 
plain  people  of  Sicily,  who  from  time  to  time  manifest  their 
discontent  with  the  existing  order  of  affairs  in  passionate 
protests,  is  due  to  a  mad  socialistic  propaganda  which  has 
inflamed  the  minds  of  the  usually  peaceful  contadini.  Ac- 
cording to  others,  socialism  has  nothing  to  do  with  the 
matter.  Others  assert  that  the  unhappy  state  of  the  coun- 
try is  the  inevitable,  necessary,  logical  consequence  of  the 
cruel  treatment  of  the  laboring  classes  by  the  proprietors  of 
the  large  estates  ("proprietarijlatifondisti").  Others  again, 
maintaining  that  this  theory  is  a  calumny,  seek  to  prove 
that  the  Sicilian  contadini  are  no  worse  off  than  the  peas- 
antry in  certain  districts  of  continental  Italy,  where  lati- 
fondi  (large  estates)  do  not  exist.  Many  students  of  the 
question,  while  admitting  that  the  condition  of  the  people 
is  most  deplorable,  lay  the  blame  entirely  upon  the  Italian 
government,  which,  they  allege,  misgoverns  Sicily,  imposing 
oppressive  taxes,  while  refusing  to  legislate  in  the  interest 
of  the  suffering  masses. 

While  it  may  be  truly  said  that  no  two  of  the  innumera- 


380  APPENDIX 

ble  publicists  who  have  studiously  investigated  the  Sicilian 
question  are  agreed  as  to  the  true  origin  of  the  disorders 
that  afflict  the  island,  it  may  with  equal  truth  be  said  that 
all  of  them  are  unanimous  in  declaring  that  the  "  land 
laws  "  lie  close  to  the  root  of  the  evil,  if  indeed  they  are 
not  the  prime  causes  of  the  misery  and  discontent — and  of 
the  lawlessness,  as  demonstrated  in  the  rule  of  La  Mafia 
and  the  prevalence  of  brigandage — that  characterize  the 
social  condition  of  Sicily  to-day. 

Two  forms  of  agriculture  prevail  in  Sicily  :  first,  "  coltura 
intensiva" — i.  <?.,  the  cultivation  of  small  farms,  vineyards, 
and  plantations  of  orange,  lemon,  almond,  carruba,  and 
sumach;  secondly,  "coltura  estensiva" — i.  <?.,  the  cultiva- 
tion of  vast  estates,  pasture-lands,  grain-fields.  La  coltura 
intensiva  prevails  around  ^Etna,  along  the  sea -shore  from 
Catania  to  Messina  and  from  Messina  to  Palermo,  a  littoral 
region  famed  for  its  fertility.  The  inhabitants  of  this  re- 
gion enjoy  a  greater  degree  of  prosperity  than  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  other  parts  of  the  island  where  la  coltura  es- 
tensiva prevails.  Vast  pasture-lands  and  grain-fields  occupy 
three-quarters  of  the  land  of  Sicily,  and  in  these  regions, 
given  over  to  latifondi,  the  traveller  may  journey  for  miles 
without  seeing  a  house  or  even  a  tree.  The  phenomenon 
of  the  Sicilian  latifondi  is  the  natural  consequence  and 
result  of  certain  conditions  of  climate,  soil — above  all,  of 
peculiar  social  conditions  of  a  belated  civilization.  The  soil 
of  the  latifondi  is  rich ;  lightly  scraped  by  a  rude  plough, 
such  as  Virgil  describes,  and  sparingly  fertilized,  it  returns  to 
the  husbandman  eight  times  the  amount  of  the  seed  sown,  a 
greater  increase  than  is  taken  from  the  deeply  ploughed, 
well-fertilized  fields  of  Tuscany.  But  the  rainfall  of  Sicily 
is  inadequate,  the  country-side  is  houseless,  there  are  few 
wells,  the  air  is  unhealthy,  the  towns  are  few  and  far  be- 
tween, there  are  not  many  roads,  and  these  are  bad,  and 
owing  to  the  disordered  state  of  society,  there  is  little  public 


APPENDIX  381 

security  of  persons  or  property.  The  inevitable  result  of 
this  condition  of  affairs  is  that  small  proprietors  are  not 
able  to  cultivate  small  holdings  profitably ;  therefore,  and 
for  many  other  reasons,  they  make  way  for  the  great  pro- 
prietors, who  monopolize  the  land  to  the  detriment  of  so- 
ciety at  large. 

The  Sicilian  latifondi  are  to  a  great  extent  held  by  the 
descendants  of  the  feudal  barons,  or  by  wealthy  capitalists, 
who,  while  drawing  the  revenues  from  them,  rarely  visit 
their  estates,  preferring  to  intrust  the  management  to  ga- 
bellotti.  These  middle-men,  relieving  the  proprietors  of  all 
care  and  responsibility,  provide  the  capital  to  work  the 
lands,  pay  the  taxes,  and  return  to  the  lords  of  the  land  a 
certain  fixed  rental  at  stated  periods.  The  disadvantages 
of  this  system  are  apparent.  The  gabellotto,  who  rents  the 
land  for  a  short  period,  is  interested  only  in  getting  as  large 
and  immediate  a  return  as  possible,  and  rarely  improves  the 
property.  Therefore,  from  year  to  year  there  is  a  notice- 
able degeneration  in  the  fertility  of  the  lands  and  in  the 
condition  of  the  betterments.  In  many  cases  the  gabel- 
lotto, imitating  the  proprietor,  sublets  the  estate  to  a  su- 
gabellotto,  who  divides  the  estate  into  small  parcels,  which 
he  in  turn  sublets  to  borgesi  (small  farmers).  In  the  social 
scale  the  borgesi  are  but  a  grade  higher  than  the  giornalieri 
(day-laborers).  The  su-gabellotti,  in  subletting  to  the  bor- 
gesi, usually  make  one  or  two  forms  of  contracts,  respec- 
tively known  as  "  terrageria  "  and  "  metateria."  According 
to  the  first  the  borgese  agrees  to  give  to  the  su-gabellotto 
three,  four,  or  five  "salm'e"  of  grain  for  each  "  salma  "  of 
land.  If  the  su-gabellotto  does  the  ploughing  and  sowing 
at  his  own  cost,  he  receives  more  grain  for  each  acre  culti- 
vated, and  this  amount  of  grain  the  borgese  has  to  pay  at 
the  threshing  floor,  be  the  season  good  or  bad.  According 
to  the  contract  known  as  metateria,  the  borgese  is  bound 
to  pay  to  the  su-gabellotto  two-thirds  of  the  crop,  or,  very 


382  APPENDIX 

frequently,  two-thirds  of  the  crop  plus  the  seed  which  has 
been  advanced  by  the  su-gabellotto.  These  are  the  two 
forms  of  "contratti  colonici "  (farming  contracts)  that  pre- 
vail in  Sicily.  Certain  other  deductions  are  made  from 
the  small  share  of  the  crop  set  aside  for  the  borgese ;  for 
instance,  he  has  to  pay  "  il  dritto  di  messa,"  a  measure  of 
corn  to  the  priest  who  visits  the  fields  to  say  mass  and 
bless  the  harvests;  "il  dritto  sfrido,"  that  is,  the  waste  of 
seed  ;  "  il  dritto  di  cuccia,"  the  macaroni  given  to  the  cam- 
pieri  who  guard  the  crops  from  robbers.  Many  other  ex- 
tortions ("  angherie  ")  are  said  to  be  practised  by  the  middle- 
men whereby  the  borgesi  are  wronged  and  stripped  of 
what  little  profit  they  may  have  hoped  to  gain  when  they 
contracted  with  the  su-gabellotti  to  till  the  land  on  shares. 
Is  it  any  wonder  that  as  the  borgese  is  treated  by  his  supe- 
rior, the  su-gabellotto,  in  like  manner  does  the  latter  treat  his 
inferiors,  the  giornalieri,  who  work  for  him?  It  is  also 
readily  to  be  understood  that  when  a  large  proprietor  has 
taken  his  rental  from  the  gabellotto,  and  the  gabellotto  has 
exacted  his  dues  from  the  su-gabellotto,  and  the  latter  has 
claimed  his  rights  from  the  borgese,  little  remains  for  the 
miserable  devil  who  does  the  work  in  the  fields.  Surely 
the  day- laborer  is  the  victim  of  a  vicious  system  of  land 
laws,  in  the  making  of  which  he  has  no  voice,  and  which  he 
is  powerless  to  mend  or  end. 

Is  it  any  wonder  that  such  a  system  of  land  tenure  breeds 
usury  in  all  its  most  objectionable  forms  ?  Sicily  swarms 
with  usuriaj  (usurers)  who,  taking  advantage  of  the  neces- 
sities of  giornalieri  and  borgesi,  lend  their  money  never  at 
less  than  twenty,  generally  at  thirty-three  and  one-third  per 
cent.,  very  frequently  at  fifty  per  cent,  and  not  infrequently 
at  more  exorbitant  rates  of  interest. 

"Usury  is  the  undying  worm  ever  gnawing  at  the  heart 
of  the  poor  in  a  society  founded  upon  land  laws  that  make 
the  latifondi  not  only  possible,  but  inevitable."     More  than 


APPENDIX  383 

any  other  class,  the  borgesi  find  themselves  in  thraldom  to 
the  usurer.  At  the  end  of  the  harvest  season,  after  he  has 
paid  "  la  semenza,"  "  i  terragri,"  "  i  terraggiulo,"  "  le  anghe- 
rie,"  "i  soccorso,"  etc.,  in  addition  to  the  rent  exacted  by 
his  over-lords,  they  have  yet  to  settle  with  the  usurer.  That 
done,  the  luckless  wights  return  to  their  miserable  homes 
after  months  of  hard  labor  with  empty  hands,  thankful,  in- 
deed, if  they  have  not  to  leave  their  ploughs  and  their  oxen 
as  security  for  small  sums  loaned  to  them  by  the  same 
usurers  to  enable  them  to  eke  out  existence  until  harvest- 
time  comes  round  again. 

The  facts  stated  above  sufficiently  account  for  the  hatred 
of  the  borgesi  and  laboring  classes  for  the  galantuomini 
(the  proprietors),  and,  above  all,  for  the  usurers — that  is  to 
say,  capitalists,  great  and  small.  As  these  same  capitalists 
are  able  to  control — and  do  control — municipal  politics,  and 
to  a  great  degree  have  hitherto  controlled  the  politics  of  the 
island,  filling  all  offices  with  their  appointees,  the  hatred 
of  the  lower  classes  for  the  "  classi  dirigenti "  (governing 
classes)  is  also  readily  to  be  imagined. 

This  "  odio  di  classi "  (hatred  of  the  masses  for  the  class- 
es, the  poor  for  the  rich)  is  admitted  by  Sonino,  Franchet- 
ti,  Bonfadini,  Damiani,  Colajanni — in  fact,  by  every  econo- 
mist who  has  made  a  study  of  the  Sicilian  question.  Since 
the  great  proprietors  sublet  their  lands  to  middle-men,  and 
rarely,  if  ever,  visit  their  estates,  preferring  to  live  in  Mes- 
sina or  Palermo,  and  even  as  far  away  as  Rome,  Madrid, 
London,  the  contadini  never  see,  and  therefore  do  not  know, 
the  "padroni  dei  fondi"'(the  lords  of  the  land),  and,  re- 
senting the  oppression  and  exactions  to  which  they  are 
subjected  by  the  agents  of  the  proprietor,  his  bailiffs,  stew- 
ards, factors,  and  the  whole  host  of  his  hangers  on  and 
under-strappers,  they  learn  to  hate  the  absent  landlord,  be- 
lieving him  to  be  the  author  of  all  their  miseries.  So  long  has 
this  system  of  land  tenure  oppressed  the  contadini,  so  sue- 


384  APPENDIX 

cessfully  have  the  landlords  resisted  all  attempts  to  reform 
it,  that  to  hate  the  galantuomini  and  all  his  congeners, 
clients,  and  retainers,  has  become  a  fixed  habit  of  thought 
with  the  contadini ;  until  the  oppressed  peasant,  feeding 
fat  his  animosity,  nursing  his  rancor,  stands  ready  to  join 
in  the  cry  (if  one  reckless  comrade  but  dare  to  raise  it), 
"Ammazza!  Ammazza  !  Abbasso  i  galantuomini !  Morte  a 
li  capeddi  !"* — a  cry  that  has  been  heard  in  Sicily  during  the 
past  five  years ;  a  cry  as  terrible  as  that  which  was  raised 
in  France  a  century  ago,  "  Les  aristocrates  a  la  lanterne  !" 

One  of  the  ablest  of  Sicilian  statesmen  asserts  that 
Sicily  is  constantly  in  a  condition  of  latent  revolution, 
and  prophesies :  "  Either  the  government  will  have  cour- 
age to  reform  radically  all  that  has  been  for  so  many 
years  demanding  reformation  or  the  people  will  completely 
overturn  and  demolish  all  social  and  political  landmarks." 

Fortunately  for  Sicily,  there  is  now  a  government  at 
Rome  which  has  addressed  itself  resolutely  to  the  solution 
of  the  Sicilian  question.  Already  great  progress  has  been 
made,  certainly,  in  pacifying  the  island,  a  certain  measure 
of  "home  rule"  has  been  granted  to  the  Sicilians,  and  we 
venture  the  prediction  that  if  the  Marquis  di  Rudini  per- 
severes in  his  determination  to  deal  with  the  Sicilians  in 
the  spirit  of  justice  which  he  has  hitherto  exhibited,  and  is 
not  mischievously  and  unreasonably  opposed  by  the  Si- 
cilians themselves,  he  will  be  instrumental  in  raising  Sicily 
from  her  fallen  condition,  and  in  leading  his  countrymen 
to  the  beginnings  of  the  paths  of  peace  and  prosperity. 
Surely  no  statesman  since  the  days  of  Abraham  Lincoln 
has  been  intrusted  with  a  nobler  task  than  that  which  en- 
gages the  thought  and  inspires  the  wisdom  of  the  present 
prime-minister  of  Italy. 

*"  Murder!  Murder!  Down  with  the  aristocrats !  Death  to  the 
hats  !" — i.  e.y  those  who  wear  hats,  and  not  the  caps  of  the  plebs. 


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